


Please Come Back To Me

by rhapsodybree



Series: Don't Forget Me [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little angst but a happily ever after, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, F/M, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Kid Fic, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 02:40:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19781566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhapsodybree/pseuds/rhapsodybree
Summary: As a first timer, when I signed up for this I thought the DCMB was a minimum of 5K. This all seemed so very reasonable and then I was like *gulp* when I realised it was 10K+. It’s okay I told myself, just keep writing and see how many words you’ve got and we’ll go from there.... to my greatest surprise, I present to you with a fic of 20K+ words!(Even if I did then make a rookie first timer mistake of somehow accidentally uploading Chapter 1 a full day before I was supposed to. And but of course only realising this once I have uploaded all 10 Chapters up into Drafts... cue me trying frantically to delete that first chapter or somehow force it to change from posted and firmly plonking it back in Drafts. Alas, one was not victorious and had to delete the entire work and upload it once again. My fingers have certainly gotten a good workout!)The original idea I had when when I signed up was for a RockStar!AU and then my muse ran away from me and refused to cooperate, so I also present to you an Amnesia Fic. I’m not a doctor, so any medical mistakes are entirely mine.Plus awesome art coming soon!And without much further ado… enjoy!





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> As a first timer, when I signed up for this I thought the DCMB was a minimum of 5K. This all seemed so very reasonable and then I was like *gulp* when I realised it was 10K+. It’s okay I told myself, just keep writing and see how many words you’ve got and we’ll go from there.... to my greatest surprise, I present to you with a fic of 20K+ words! 
> 
> (Even if I did then make a rookie first timer mistake of somehow accidentally uploading Chapter 1 a full day before I was supposed to. And but of course only realising this once I have uploaded all 10 Chapters up into Drafts... cue me trying frantically to delete that first chapter or somehow force it to change from posted and firmly plonking it back in Drafts. Alas, one was not victorious and had to delete the entire work and upload it once again. My fingers have certainly gotten a good workout!) 
> 
> The original idea I had when when I signed up was for a RockStar!AU and then my muse ran away from me and refused to cooperate, so I also present to you an Amnesia Fic. I’m not a doctor, so any medical mistakes are entirely mine. 
> 
> Plus awesome art coming soon! 
> 
> And without much further ado… enjoy!

Dean wakes up with a groan.

Opening his eyes, he looks around at the unfamiliar settings. Beige walls. Beige curtains. Off Beige ceiling. _Gee, Beige Convention much._ Even the fricking crappy TV is beige. When he tries to wriggle his fingers and move his arm, the beige blanket itches.

Beige, crappy TV, itchy blankets… wait is he in hospital? Trying to sit up, the movement jolts his head and he can’t supress the groan that escapes. He’s got one hell of a headache.

“Dean!”

_Well hey, here’s one thing that he recognises._

“Sammy,” his voice croaks as his overbearing moose of a brother stands up and reaches over to press a button frantically. “What happened?”

“You were in a car accident.”

_A car accident? Sure he can remember driving his car but…_ “Is Baby okay?”

Sam leans out to pat his arm as he takes a position at his bedside once again. “Yes you’re both okay. Thank God.”

Sam usually rolls his eyes at his love of the beloved Impala, but maybe being a student has made him finally appreciate the finer things in life. Hey, he ain’t going to question the brilliance of Stanford and that fancy pants learning, even if it’s far too many damn miles away. _Wait…_

“What are you doing here?”

Sam looks at him in confusion. “Dean?”

“You’ve got finals.”

“No I don’t?”

“Yes you do. You ain’t got that fancy pants law degree yet.”

Sam’s face goes pale.

“Dean… what year do you think it is?”

xXx

8 years.

That’s all Dean can think as the doctors bustle around him, poking, prodding and checking various machines and numbers. He can hear his brother speaking with said invasion of medical personnel but he can’t focus.

Apparently it’s Friday 20 September…

… of freaking 2013…

… and he’s lost 8 years.

Medical staff blessedly leaving them alone, Sam tugs his chair closer to the bed and Dean looks at his brother awkwardly. “So eight years huh?”

Sam runs his hand through his hair. “Yeah. Eight years.”

“I guess that makes you a fully fledged lawyer now. Out there changing the world.”

Sam laughs, though it’s tight. “Sure something like that. More like an underpaid and overworked lackey suffering in Lawrence.”

Dean blinked. “You came back?”

Sam shrugs. “Wanted to be close to my family.”

Dean swallows at the unexpectedly touching moment.

He tries to lighten up the mood. “Well at least some things never change eh.” Sam frowns as he tries to figure out what he means. Dean points at his brother’s head. “Still Most Likely to Star in a Hair Commercial.”

He scowls.

Dean grins. “You still with that Jessica chick?”

A shadow crosses his baby bro’s face and Dean somehow knows that whatever is coming next won’t be good. “Jess, ah, died in a fire.”

Dean winced. “I’m sorry Sammy.”

“It’s okay. It’s been a while now.” He lifts his left hand. “I am married though.”

“Bet she’s out of your league as well.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

The response is instinctual.

Puffing out a laugh – some things really do never change – Dean rubs the back of his neck… and stills when he feels cold metal. Bringing forth his left hand, he spots the thick platinum band adorning his ring finger.

“Hey, some idiot agreed to put up with me too.”

“That’s what Cas says when you’re being annoying too,” smirks Sam.

He would have called his brother out on the insult, but he wanted to know more about his supposed other half. “Is that her name. Cas?”

“Uh actually…”

Whatever response Sam was going to give, they’re interrupted by the abrupt entrance of a man, dark hair askew, rushing into the room. When the man makes eye contact, Dean has never seen such blue eyes.

Time freezes.

Talk about his own Dr Sexy.

It’s a nurse who interrupts their staring contest. “Ah excuse me Mr-, ah D- um… Sir? You need to come with me please.” 

The man seems reluctant to leave but acquiesces when she tugs on his arm.

Disappointed for some reason at his departure, he turns to find Sam looking at him intently. “What?”

They’re interrupted once again, not by Dr Sexy but a tall dour man who begins to explain what is going on. Apart from a few bumps and bruises he’s not actually otherwise injured, but they still want to keep him overnight to monitor him.

_Well that and a little thing called retrograde amnesia._

“So when do I get my memory back Doc?”

“Only time will tell.”

“Mighty helpful that.”

xXx

It’s a long, quite frankly boring, night.

Getting lost in his head trying to remember isn’t helpful because he doesn’t know what the hell it is he’s actually supposed to be remembering. The last he can remember he’s working at the garage with Bobby, Sam is at Stanford with his girlfriend Jessica, and his love life is a revolving door of one night stands. He wonders if Ellen is still at the Roadhouse. Who was he kidding of course she would be. It occurs to him that Jo would also be of legal drinking age now. Fucking hell. What else can he remember? Oh of course Charlie – how could he forget his best friend. They better still be best friends, he needed the nerd in his life. He’s thankful his parents are already dead so he doesn’t have to learn that, but Jess being dead sucked though. He wondered what Sammy’s new girlfriend was like. Correction – wife. Shit, his little brother was married. He would have been best man right? He grinned. He would have thrown an awesome bachelor party. He wonders what his own party was like – cos apparently he was married too. Huh. Never thought he’d see the day. Looking at his ring, he runs his thumb over the metal as he tries to bring up memories or visualise what his wife must look like. He draws a complete and utter blank.

Brain exhausted, and pounding a little if he’s honest, he turns the TV on. Unfortunately for him, it’s stuck on a channel showing some old game shows. After watching it for a bit, the canned applause and tinny music setting off fireworks in his head, he turns it off in disgust. He can’t even watch the news so he can bring himself up on current affairs.

He tries to get up and walk around but apparently that’s frowned upon as well. He manages some sleep, but the hospital bed is uncomfortable and he hates the bed and the stiff sheets and the shite pillow and the scratchy blanket. Scratch that, he hates hospitals. Full stop.

Poking at the monstrosity they dare to call food, he’s beyond ready to leave when Sam arrives the next morning.

“Get me out of here.”

“We need the doctor to sign you out,” says Sam calmly as he places a bag on the chair next to the bed.

“I’ll sign myself out if he doesn’t get his butt in here pronto,” grumbles Dean as he scoops up another spoonful of gunk and watches it drop with a disgusting plop.

It’s still another hour before he sees the doctor, but at least in that time he’s able to wash up somewhat and slip into his own clothes. Never have his jeans, shirt and flannel felt so good. Looking at his face in the mirror had been a bit of a shock though. He was obviously still Dean, but damn he’s gotten older.

The doctor finds him with his arms crossed over his chest, swinging his legs impatiently over the side of the bed.

“He is to take it easy, plenty of rest and try to avoid overwhelming him with too much new information. Start small with what he knows and build up on that.”

Sam is looking at him intently and… _is he writing this down?!_

Dean would have rolled his eyes but stopped himself as the doctor turned his gaze on him next. “And I will see you next Tuesday for a follow up appointment.”

Sam’s head flies up at this which is weird but frankly right now he doesn’t care, already halfway out of bed and crossing the floor.

“Yup, Tuesday. Got it,” nods Dean. “Can I get the hell out of here now?”

xXx

Walking rapidly down the corridor, Dean takes in a deep breath of fresh air. The sun has never felt so good. He’s never been an indoors person and he’d spent far too long trapped in there.

“So, where to now.”

“Home.”

The streets are familiar as he drives down them. Thank fuck he still lives in Lawrence. Being in an unfamiliar place would be just a bit too much for him to handle right now. 

But the house they pull up in front of is unfamiliar. Dean turns to his brother with a frown. “Is this where I live now?”

“No, this is where I live.” 

“Wait, why aren’t we going to my house.”

There’s a long pause as if Sam is trying to find the right words. “We’re supposed to introduce you to familiar settings and people first.”

Dean sweeps his arm toward the building in front of them as they exit the car and walk up the path. “This ain’t familiar dude.”

“Yes, well…”

They’re interrupted by the door opening and a dog running toward them.

“Hey Bones.” Dean leans down to pat the excited dog on the head before standing up. He takes a few steps before realising he’s the only one moving. “You coming or what?”

“Dean!” His brother looks like an oversized puppy bursting with excitement.

“What?”

“You remembered something!”

His brow furrows. “I did?”

Sam nods his head enthusiastically pointing at the dog that has now run into the house. “You remembered the dog’s name.”

“What? Bones? Of course I did,” Dean scoffs.

“We only got him four years ago.”

Dean blinked.

“Oh.”

Bones appears again and a short woman with brown hair and kind eyes steps out onto the porch.

“Hi Sam, Dean. Everything okay?” Her voice sounds strange as she speaks.

Dean’s hands are moving before he even knows it as he replies. “Yeah everything is just fine.”

_What the hell?_

Sam looks like he’s about to pee himself. “You can remember signing as well! This is great news! I need to tell Ca- someone.”

His enthusiasm doesn’t wane as they sit down at the table and eat sandwiches Eileen has prepared. “This is good news Dean. It means you’re still in there somewhere.”

“Uh huh,” replied Dean. “Now if ‘somewhere’ could reappear real quickly that would be great.”

Looking at his wedding ring once again, he swallows a bite. “So, when do I get to see my wife then. Go to my home?”

Sam freezes. “Ah, we should stick with people we know first right. How about we go to Bobby’s? And then we can say hi to Ellen at the Roadhouse. Charlie is away, but she’ll be back tomorrow so we can see her then.” Sam’s babbling by this point.

Wondering what on earth there is to hide, Dean sighs and acquiesces.

He turns his nose down as he gets into the passenger seat once again. Trust Sam to be driving a plastic car.

Pulling up outside the familiar garage, Dean can’t hold back the smile that escapes. Eight years may have passed, but not a damn thing has changed. Stepping out of the car, he heads toward the office.

And freezes.

Not everything is the same.

Beneath the weatherworn faded sign of _Singer Auto_ sits a newer sign.

_Winchester Restorations_

Holy fuck. He’d actually managed to make his dream a reality. His jaw is still dropped as the familiar figure of Bobby Singer, just a bit more slightly worn, crosses the yard to him and claps him on the shoulder.

“You’re going to catch a fly there boy if you don’t shut your trap.”

He closes his jaw with a snap, but sentences aren’t forthcoming. “What…? How? I -“

The old man takes pity on him patting him on the back. “You pestered me for years and finally I gave into it. You done good boy.” Compliments are so rarely given and Dean blushes under the praise.

He salivates at the sight of two beautiful cars sitting in the bays, never mind one of them was half rusted over. He rests a palm on the bonnet. “Bet we can make you look good as gold once again hey old girl.”

He’s still drooling as he checks out the rest of the space. His coverall even has _Winchester Restorations_ on it and if that don’t just take the prize.

It takes him some time to come out of his heavenly bubble and he realises that Sam and Bobby are talking about him.

“Have you told him yet?”

“No.”

“Why not you idjit?”

“Doctor says no big reveals.”

“It’s his fa-“

“Do you remember what he was like when he first told us?”

“I still think he needs to know.”

“I will tell him. Just not yet.”

Suddenly he’s tired. Physically, emotionally and mentally tired. And tired of being treated with kid gloves.

As if his brother has freaking radar, he drops the conversation and turns with concern. “So Roadhouse next?”

“I just want to sleep.”

xXx

Head pounding, he has very little to say as he plasters a smile on his face, makes his farewells and slips off to bed, waving off concerned looks. “I’m fine. Just tired,” he grits out. 

Sleep is fretful and he manages to doze before suddenly he’s clean awake. At freaking 12:07am according to the alarm clock on the bedside table.

Sighing, he’s soon fed up with looking at the ceiling of the guest bedroom. Inspiration striking, he reaches for the duffel bag Sam brought with him determined to go exploring to see if there’s any extra info about him to be found. He hates the sense that he’s missing big gaps to who he is. Plus he knows his brother is holding out on something.

Pulling out spare clothes, a worn copy of _Cat’s Cradle_ (hey that’s still good reading material), his hand closes around leather. Bringing forth a wallet, it sits comfortably in his hand. Flipping it open, he notes the empty space and imprint of what was clearly a photo. Dean shakes his head. More of Sam’s “assistance” to ease him back into new information he was sure.

He pulls out random cards: a supermarket reward card, credit card, a freaking library card and a 2-for-1 pie coupon for some place called _Heavenly Treats: A_ _Slice of Heaven_. Win! Pulling out his drivers licence, he blinks at the photo. It’s still weird to see his older face staring back at him.

His eyes are drawn to the address next. _Huh._ Apparently he hasn’t moved. Who would have thought he’d still be in that house. _Geez, his wife must really love him to move into his DIY project._

An idea is forming in his mind and he’s already pulling on his jeans and throwing on his flannel and shoving his feet into his boots. Tucking his wallet into his back pocket, he pushes his door open, wincing when it squeaks. It really wouldn’t do for Sammy to wake up and ask what’s going on. It occurs to him that Eileen won’t wake up to the noise – though he should have thought about putting his boots on when he’s out the door instead in case the vibrations wake her up or something.

Gingerly sneaking down the stairs, he breathes a sigh of relief when he’s not accosted. Snagging Sam’s car keys from the hook on the wall – bless his well organised brother and sister-in-law – he slips out the front door and shuts is quietly behind him.

Opening the Prius, he has to pull the seat forward and snorts at how gigantic his brother still is. If anything he swears that he’s grown another impossible inch and certainly bulked up.

Starting the car, he grudgingly accepts that one advantage of this car is a quiet engine. As glorious as his Baby is, quiet she is not. Pulling out of the driveway it occurs to him that driving probably wasn’t on the list of approved doctor things. His brain – the part that does seem to be working – readily supplies him with a justification: he’s taking it easy, plus it’s something familiar yeah?

He recalls the direction his brother drove in and is back on the high street in no time and making the familiar drive to his house.

Pulling into this driveway, he surveys the house by streetlight. The bones of the house are still the same, but damn if it there hasn’t been changes. It’s got a fresh lick of paint – even the shutters are freaking painted. The porch steps don’t look like they’re about to fall apart with the barest of pressure. The path actually leads from the road to the front door instead of being an overgrown jungle. There’s even freaking flowers. And there’s the garage.

Getting out of the car he makes his way quickly to it and sneaks a look in through the window. He breathes a sigh of relief at the sight he finds. Baby is in one unscratched piece. 

It occurs to him after he knocks on the door that it’s actually stupid ass o’clock in the morning and he can’t expect his wife to be awake. Preparing to turn away, the door opens… and he freezes. His jaw drops as he recognises the figure who opens it.

“You.”

“Hello Dean.”


	2. Chapter Two

It’s the Dr Sexy from the hospital. Dark hair still askew. Black slacks. White shirt with sleeves rolled up. Tired blue eyes lock on his. He looks like shit. 

“Do you want to come in?”

Dean walks dumbly into the house. His legs guide him to the living room he and collapses onto the couch with a thud. The man sits opposite him. Several times he opens his mouth but nothing comes out.

His head is pounding and he’s not sure how much more of this he can take. The man seated opposite him looks concerned.

It’s him who finally breaks the silence. “My name is Castiel Novak and we’ve been married for three years.” 

Cas.

There it is without a doubt.

Married.

Yes, he’s married.

To Cas.

To a guy.

_Gee, wonder what John Winchester would have had to say about that._

Reeling, he tries again to form words but it’s another voice that speaks next.

“Papa I can’t sleep.”

Dean turns to see a little girl dragging a blanket, rubbing her eyes. Her eyes open wide as she spots him. “Daddy!”

_Daddy?!_

Oh shit.

Her small body hits him and he’s frozen. Looking at the man opposite him, he sees the unspoken desperate plea in his eyes. Forcing his body to comply, he wraps his arms around the girl as she hums happily.

“I missed you Daddy. Lots and lots.”

He gulps. “Ah, I uh missed you too kiddo.”

“Are you all betterer now?”

 _How the hell was he supposed to respond to that._ “Getting there?”

That seems to satisfy her as she cuddles into him some more and shit he’s about to cry. She’s not there for long before she flies up in his arms and braces her palms on his shoulders. “That means we’re going shopping and we’re doing cookies tomorrow!” Dean winces at noise level, the high pitch shooting a lightning bolt into his poor head. “We gonna make lots and lots and lots of them.” 

Dean looks at the guy opposite him desperately for help but the girl isn’t finished yet.

“Pinky promise?”

Dean looks into green eyes just like his and swallows. He has no idea what he’s agreeing to but no way in hell is he letting a kid – hell, his kid – be disappointed and so he raises his pinky.

“Promise.”

He’s saved from agreeing to any more promises he knows nothing about when Cas pushes himself upright. “This is only happening if you’re a good girl and head straight back to bed now and sleep.”

She smacks a kiss on his cheek and bounces off his lap, tugging on his hand to pull him up. Cas is quick to intervene with an outstretched hand. “Daddy’s head still hurts so we need to let him rest here.”

“Is your head still hurted Daddy?”

She’s back looking at him with a determined gaze. She presses a gentle kiss to his other cheek as if she’s looking to kiss his boo-boo better. “All better now.” He gives her soft smile.

“Come on Mary. Time for bed.”

Dean blinks.

Mary.

He’d called his daughter Mary.

Still seated on the couch, Dean tries to process it all.

Mary.

Daddy.

Cas.

Husband.

Cas interrupts his brain circling around those words on repeat when he steps back into the room without Mary and a mobile held to his ear. “He’s here Sam.”

Dean winces, and silently apologises to his brother for making him worry. He didn’t even leave a note. _Oops._

“We’ll see you tomorrow.”

When Cas hangs up, a thoroughly confused and quite frankly just a wee bit overwhelmed Dean realises he’s now alone once again with the man who is his husband and apparently a fellow parent. “Um, I…”

Cas takes pity on him. “We’ll talk later. Let’s go to bed.”

Dean chokes. “Ah. I um… I’ll be fine out here on the couch?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you need to rest.”

“I’m not taking yo-ou-the bed Cas.”

“Dean you need to sleep to recover.”

“I’ll be fine out here.”

“Dean,” the man growls.

“Cas.”

Their eyes lock, both stubborn. It’s Cas that breaks first. “As you wish.” 

He disappears and then returns with a blanket and pillow. Placing it on the couch, he opens his mouth as if to say something and then shakes his head. 

“Good night Dean.”

“Night Cas.”

Lying under the blanket, looking up at the black ceiling, sleep is elusive. His brain is exploding with all this new information about himself.

Mary.

Daughter.

Daddy.

Cas.

Husband.

Mary.

Daughter.

Daddy.

Cas.

Husband.

_He has a kid. He’s married. Shit, he’s gay?_

Punching the pillow into compliance, he tugs up the blanket and rolls onto his side. Sleeping will help. It’ll all be clearer in the morning.

_Right?_

He snaps awake.

He’s not sure what has woken him but it’s still dark out. Sitting up, senses alert, he hears a soft whimper.

His blanket is thrown back and he’s on his feet before he even realises. Already in motion, he lets his body lead him toward a room next to what was his bedroom. Slipping into the room, his eyes adjust and he finds that he’s looking at a cot.

Mary isn’t of an age to need a cot so that could only mean one thing. He has another kid. A kid who lets out another whimper. Stepping forward he looks down and sees large solemn eyes looking up at him, a fist stuffed into his mouth.

He doesn’t question how he somehow just knows that it’s a boy.

Tracing a finger down his cheek, he speaks softly. “Guess I’m your daddy too eh.”

He laughs softly when the baby turns into his hand and gums at his thumb with a whine. Gingerly slipping his arms around the small form, he lifts him and settles him in his arms. It’s been a long time since he’s held such a small person. That he can remember that is.

“I remember when my little brother Sammy was your age.” He pauses as he realises something. “Huh, I guess he’s actually your Uncle Sammy now.”

The baby cocks his head and he looks just like a little man. Dean holds him tighter.

“I can do this right?”

The baby stuffs his fist in his mouth once again.

Bouncing on his feet, a song comes unbidden to mind and he hums along.

_Hey Jude_

Eyes shutter close soon after and Dean deposits him back in the cot softly singing _nah nah nah nah._

“Everything okay?”

Dean jumps and turns at the voice. Cas is bracing himself against the door frame, loose sleep pants barely hanging on to sharp hip bones, hair sticking up in a thousand different directions, arms crossed over his chest.

He swallows when he realises a response is needed. “Ah yeah. Think he just wanted to be held?”

Cas nods his head as he enters the room to stand beside him looking down at the baby.

_Personal space dude._

But he makes no effort to move.

The guy looks fond as he looks down at the sleeping baby.

“His name is Jack. He’s four and a half months old.”

“Any more kids we’ve got hiding that I need to know about?” he jokes.

The corner of Cas’ mouth turns up. It’s a tiny movement, but he’ll take that as a smile. 

“Not that I’m aware of.”

The humour is short lived as Cas yawns, jaw cracking at the effort. He didn’t think it was possible, but the guy looks even more tired than he did before. God knows what time it is now and how long it is until morning.

“Okay back to bed.”

Cas stretches his arms over his head and Dean can’t draw his eyes away from the rippling muscles and the exposed strip of skin as the shirt lifts. His arms drop and again Cas makes an aborted move before stepping back.

“Good night Dean.”

He doesn’t have the wits about him to reply before Cas is gone from sight.

xXx

Morning comes far too soon and he’s woken up suddenly by a poke to his shoulder. Grumbling, he tries to roll over but stills when the next poke is accompanied by a giggle.

“Daddy wake up.”

The memories of the past 24 hours flood back to him in a rush. Opening his eyes carefully, he spots a gleeful little girl standing before him. “Wake up Daddy.”

_Yup, apparently this all wasn’t a dream._

“What time is it?”

“Wake up time.”

He can’t fault her logic. “Thank you Mary.”

She beams at him. “And is breakfast time now.”

He allows himself to be tugged upright and pulled into the kitchen. The kitchen had been one of the first things he’d renovated when he moved in.

Looking around at the familiar features, he spots an unfamiliar coffee machine and the man standing in front of it, glaring at the piece of machinery.

“Morning Cas,” he ventures.

The man turns his glare on him.

“Okayy,” he draws out raising his hands his surrender. “Someone is cranky before they get their coffee.”

Cas scowls. Dean grins as he takes in the rest of him.

_Wait was that his shirt?_

His musings are interrupted by a cry.

Cas groans as he looks forlornly down at the machine.

“I got this?” he offered.

Mary bounds around his feet as Dean reaches into the nearest cupboard. His daughter – daughter! – seems to have a remarkable ability of speaking in the form of a stream of consciousness that thankfully only requires the occasional “ah”, “oh”, “yes”, “you don’t say” on his behalf.

He’s got half an ear listening as he opens the fridge. It’s only when he’s reaching for the sugar canister that he stops. He looks down at two full mugs of coffee, one already doctored with milk. He drinks his black, so the other one has to be for Cas. He mentally applauds himself as he reaches for the sugar and spoons in two.

The memory is strong in this one.

The grouchy man steps into the room with a baby on his hip. _Damn that should not look so adorable._ He picks up both mugs and offers said grumpy man a mug – ha, he’s just realised it’s got a big smiley bee on it – and gets a grunt in response. _Well, maybe the smiles will catch._ Jack reaches a hand out for the mug, as if to take a sip for himself.

Dean pulls it back with a grin. “You’re not going to be able to drink this for a few good years yet kiddo.”

“He wants his bottle.” The voice is low and rough from sleep. And it did not send a spark of arousal down his spine thank you very much.

The fridge is opened once again and Cas pulls out a bottle. It’s warmed up in a few quick practiced moves and Cas falls into a chair and rearranges Jack in his arms. Bottle propped up, he reaches out for the coffee once again.

Dean swears that he can sense Cas coming more alive with each sip he takes.

Dean grins. “We need to get coffee into you straightaway eh.”

He doesn’t expect the flash of pain that flashes across the other man’s face. “You usually make it before I get up.”

_Oh._

The awkwardness is interrupted by Mary running back into the room – actually, when did she even leave it? – with colourful paper and a fistful of pencils. She scrambles up on to a chair with some effort and begins to scribble madly. “Today is going to be Awesome.” You could almost see the capital letter where her enthusiasm leaked through.

As Mary gleefully continues, Dean remembers the promise from last night and looks desperately at the man in front of him. “Ah Cas, what exactly did I agree to?”

Cas is still in pre-coffee functioning mode and decidedly unhelpful and so it’s Mary that answers. “We is making birthday cookies.” 

“Oh right of course.”

“Here you go Daddy.”

_Daddy._

He looks at the scribbles – spotting a random letter or two – that are no doubt supposed to mean something meaningful to him. “Ah thank you Mary.”

“Remember that Daddy has hurt his head so he might forget a few things,” explains a more coherent Cas as he lifts Jack’s bottle as the baby continues to suck. “So how about you explain it all to him so he knows exactly what’s going on?”

Mary nods and takes up the task enthusiastically.

“We is making Grandma Mary’s birthday cookies. Cos I is going to be 5 (she holds up her hand to emphasise the number) on Tuesday and I’m going to take all my birthday cookies to school on Tuesday to give to all of my friends. Plus we is need to have some left for the party on Saturday.” She frowns. “Maybe. D’pends if we eat them all before then. That may happen,” she predicts.

His breath catches in his throat. _Grandma Mary._ He’d taught his kids about his mother – even though they’d never met her or be able to meet her.

Mary continues to speak. “So we need to the go to the shops today cos we is supposed to go to the shops on Friday after you picked me up from school but you didn’t pick me up and Papa did, so we couldn’t do it then. And you hurted your head so we couldn’t do it yesterday either. So we is going to do it today.”

Dean’s heart sinks at the realisation that he’s let his daughter down. Maybe he hadn’t intended to do it but damn it still hurt.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t do it on Friday or Saturday sweetheart,” the endearment slipped out unbidden. “Of course we will go shopping today.”

Mary looks at him with a wide smile. “I is ready for breakfast now.”

Dean feels a rush of love that he’s never quite felt before. He stands up quickly – and doesn’t brush away a tear thank you very much – and just knows that Cas is looking at him.

“Breakfast it is.”


	3. Chapter Three

The doorbell rings not long after. Mary gets up from her seat and throws herself into the arms of the tall man that enters the room. “Thank you for looking after my Daddy and making him feel betterer Uncle Sam,” she says sombrely.

“You’re more than welcome Miss Mary,” he replies equally sombrely and returns her hug.

She leans back and braces herself on his shoulders. “Plus Papa won’t cry anymore now that Daddy is back.”

Dean looks over in alarm. Cas’ laugh is short and harsh. “Let’s just say that Mary and Jack weren’t the only ones having a hard time of it Friday night.”

The guilt continues to eat him up.

It’s agreed that Sam will drive Dean and Mary to the shops as Dean still isn’t officially cleared to drive yet. A quick shower, changing into a fresh set of clothes, and Dean is ready. (And no he wasn’t a coward for not showering in the ensuite thank you very much. And definitely not a chicken for not getting clothes from his bedroom. It was just easier to use the clothes in the duffle right, even if he does now smell of baby berrylicious.) 

“To the car,” cries Dean as he re-enters the kitchen. Mary is dressed for the day as well, bright green leggings peaking out from under a dinosaur print dress, light brown hair tied back in a small ponytail, little sandals strapped to her feet.

_Damn she was cute._

He pauses when Cas hands him something. “What’s this?”

“Reusable shopping bags.” Dean holds them out like they’re something toxic and Sam laughs.

“Okay…”

He’s not spending any more time in that piece of plastic so he grabs his keys from the bowl near the front door and hands them over with a warning. “Scratch her and-”

Sam rolls his eyes. “Yes, yes heads will roll. Geez some things never change.”

“Good thing Baby wasn’t hurt in the accident then eh?”

Cas frowns as he tilts his head. “Dean, the Impala wasn’t in the accident.”

Dean looks at Sam in confusion. “But you said Baby was okay? When I woke up at the hospital,” he prompts.

“Yes.”

Dean is confused. “Well what baby are you talking about then?”

Sam extends a finger to Cas. Dean looks at Cas and Jack looks right back at him. A baby… not Baby but an actual baby. “Holy sh-. Was he - is he okay?”

“Yes Dean, he’s okay.” Cas tugs Jack closer. “Your body shielded him when you fell.”

He does not know what to do with this information.

Walking out to the car, Dean startles when Mary grasps his hand and skips along beside hm. Warmth fills him as she chatters away. He doesn’t like that he’s disappointed his daughter by not being there on Friday, but it doesn’t look like she’s holding it against him.

Opening the back door, he’s faced with a baby seat, but for a kid. It’s been years since he’s seen one of these. Actually, did Sammy even use one? Thankfully Mary seems to know what she’s doing as she lets go of his hand, still chatting incessantly, and climbs into the car. She seats herself and then looks at him expectantly.

_Right, he’s supposed to do something now._ Reaching for the seatbelt, he tugs it over and presses it into the clasp. He’s tugging and testing the resistance of the strap before he even realises he’s doing it.

“All good?” he asks.

“All good,” she tweets back.

_Yup, he’s got a cute kid._

Pulling open the passenger door, it feels bloody weird to not be sitting in the driver seat. He fidgets in place before his brother gives him a bitch face. Settling, he slips in a cassette. A melody that is familiar – and yet not – fills the car. _Is that…?_

“Zeppelin lullabies,” grins Sam. “Charlie made them.”

“Charlie is a genius.” 

The drive to the store is short, Mary supplying all the conversation they need.

After Sam pulls into the parking spot, Dean gets out of the car and turns to find Mary looking at him through the window. _Oh right, got to let her out too._ Opening the door, she’s already unbuckled herself and slips her hand into his once again, other hand holding her paper fast.

She thrusts it up into his face the minute they walk through the doors. “We is need to get all of this Daddy.”

He takes the paper. “All of this you say.” He’s grateful the recipe is long ingrained from his own memories of baking with his mother, as his daughter’s artistic (but frankly ineligible) handwriting is of no assistance.

Stepping into the shop, it’s not hard to get caught up in Mary’s excitement. She dashes down the aisles, bouncing on the balls of her feet as Dean happily orders Sam to push the trolley.

“No heavy lifting and all that you know Sammy.”

“It’s Sam.”

“Whatever you say Sammy.”

The flour is too heavy for Mary to lift and he chuckles at her determination as he steps forward. “Need a hand there kiddo?”

She grunts as tries to lift it some more. “No?”

Baking basics gathered up, an all important discussion is held in the sweets aisle. He knows they’ve already got the dinosaur cookie cutters at home so they just need decorations. _Wait, why does he know that?_ He shakes his head to focus. “So how are we going to decorate these very most awesome cookies?” asks Dean as he crouches down to her level.

Mary ponders this seriously, holding her chin deep in thought.

_Seriously, this kid is too cute._

“Spots and stripes!” she finally declares. 

Spotty and stripy birthday dinosaur cookies it is.

Standing in the kitchen some time later, Dean seriously can’t remember the last time he had this much fun. Or made this much mess.

Baking cookies is one of the last fond memories he has of his Mom. It’s nice to know that he’s passing it on to the next generation.

Removing tray number 5 billion and one (he’s stopped counting now), he places it to cool down out of almost-five-year-old reach. Turning, he pauses a moment to marvel that this is somehow future him’s life.

Mary has thrown herself into decorating with great gusto – more mess than art but you can’t fault her commitment. Sam’s assistance is mostly “no Mary, don’t eat all of that” and “Jack careful you don’t hit your head with that spatula buddy”, as Dean mans the oven and steadily works through icing the pile with Cas.

Icing cookie number 8 trillion and two, he looks up to find Cas squinting as he carefully ices the outside of a Diplodocus. Or was it a Brachiosaurus? Sod that, a whatever-a-saurus. He’s fastidious as he traces an outline, frowning when the icing dares to venture off from where he wants it.

Dean struggles to hold back a laugh. “You right there with your masterpiece angel?”

Cas looks up to scowl at him before his expression changes. He turns to his brother to find him looking at with a grin on his face.

_Why are they looking at him like that?_

“What?” he asks defensively.

“You called me angel.”

“What, no I didn’t,” he backpedals.

“Yes you did,” his ever helpful brother pipes up.

Blushing, he turns his attention back to icing, studiously refusing to look at the other two men, intent on giving Mary more cookies to decorate.

Besides, it’s a perfectly normal thing for married people to call each other right.

_Right?_

Two hours later and it’s finally done.

“Thank fuck for that,” mutters Dean as he stands upright again, wincing at the pain in his back. He freezes at the indignant voices.

“Dean!”

“Daddy!”

Even baby Jack makes a noise that sounds like he’s being told off for bad language.

“You have to put a dollar in the swear jar.”

Dean looks incredulously at Cas who just raises an eyebrow and looks pointedly at the jar. He almost swears again as he reaches into his wallet for a dollar but is faced by a little girl with hands on her hips, a husband raising an eyebrow and a baby gumming a spatula. “Oh man?” he offers instead.

Mary nods her head decidedly.

Something tells him his wallet is going to be considerably lighter over the next few days. 

Sam takes a photo now that they’re done: Mary’s grin splits her face as she holds up the biggest cookie of all, Dean bracing an arm behind her back so she doesn’t fall. Jack is sound asleep in his bouncer, little hand still gripping the spatula tightly, as Cas leans over the contraption to get in frame. It’s hard not to smile at the picture they make.

The cookies are stored safely in containers ready for school on Tuesday and a batch put to the side that they will attempt to save for the party that is apparently happening on Saturday.

“Bags not it cleaning up,” says Dean instantly as he snaps the last lid on and backs away. “I nominate Uncle Sammy,” he says gleefully.

Sam glares at him and opens his mouth and then snaps it shut promptly.

Dean grins. “Bitch,” he mouths. _See, he can get a hang of this not swearing shit._

“Well in that case then…” Cas smirks as he dumps baby Jack into his arms for a diaper change.

_Ah nuts._

It may have been 20 years since he’s changed his brother’s diaper, but the mechanics are the same.

Even the poopsplosions.

“Jesus Christ, what on earth have you eaten kiddo?” He covers his nose and tries to inhale through his mouth as he realises he’s sworn again. “Ssh, don’t tell Papa or your sister or I’ll never hear the end of it.” Baby Jack smiles brightly. “We can keep it a secret yeah? Yes we can. Yes we can.”

_Good Lord, he’s doing baby speak._

Task complete and slipping into a clean set of clothes – the last from the duffel – Dean carries Jack into the kitchen and delegates himself to bottle duty to continue to avoid doing clean up. And what do you know, the bottle is finished at the same time as kitchen clean up duty. _Such a shame._

Mary is soon crashing from her sugar high and dumped into a bath (“Wash Uncle Sammy’s locks while you’re at it!”) and Dean is crashing too, barely able to stay awake as he takes a seat on the couch holding the baby.

It’s been a long day and he’s feeling it. He’ll just rest his head here on the pillow. Just for a moment yeah. He grunts when the weight in his arms is removed and something warm gets pulled up over him. He vaguely senses a pressure at his temple.

And then he’s out.


	4. Chapter Four

The wake up the following morning is no less jarring.

_Crowley’s car needs a new fan belt. Zachariah needs new tyres and he was being a real arsehole about it. And he must remember to… wait…_

_Where is he?_

Oh right.

Sitting upright with a groan, he looks around at the dark room. _Damnit. He must have fallen asleep again._ Blearily looking at his watch he sees it’s barely 6am. He throws his head back with a groan.

_Fuck this life._

Figuring he may as well get up because there’s no chance in hell that he’ll be going back to sleep and he really doesn’t want to be poked awake again, he heads for the bathroom. After relieving himself he heads for the kitchen. He may as well start cooking something.

Plus he had coffee to make. 

Mary bounds into the room full for far too much energy less than twenty minutes later. She frowns at the pillow and blanket.

“Why is you sleeping on the couch again Daddy?”

 _His kid ain’t stupid._ “Cos I fell asleep there?”

“Oh.” Mary ponders this. “You should fall asleep in your bed. With Papa.”

“Ah yes,” swallows Dean. His bed. Where his _husband_ is sleeping. “Good idea.”

Said husband then arrives in the room carrying Jack on his hip. Dean picks up a coffee mug instantly and hands it to him.

The grateful looks he gets in return does not make him feel warm and fuzzy.

Breakfast on the table soon after, Mary’s enthusiasm for the day has not abated.

“School. School. Schooooooooooool.”

Dean watches incredulously as she bounces around the room.

“Gee excited much?” mutters Dean.

Cas smirks. “Don’t worry, the novelty will wear off soon enough.”

Their eyes meet across the room and it’s like they’re having one of those shared parental shit understanding things.

Shaking himself, he goes for another line of conversation. “Uh Cas.”

“Yes Dean?”

He coughs. “I’m going to need some clothes and like I don’t know where anything is and ah yeah…”

Cas just watches him as his voice trails off. “It’s still your bedroom,” he replies with his head cocked. “You can go in there and get clothes.” 

“I was thinking maybe you could?” he asks hopefully.

He’s had enough revelations – he doesn’t think he can process what a bedroom looks like when he’s sharing it with a guy. He feels like a dickhead when Cas’ face drops before he can school his features but he’s too much of a coward to say anything.

“Of course Dean,” says Cas in a too damn understanding tone.

There’s less understanding an hour later.

“Fucking Mondays,” mutters Cas as he passes him by. Dean chokes on his second cup of coffee. Would now be the time to mention the swear jar?

He spares a look at the scowling man.

Best not.

He’d help, but it’s awkward as he’s not entirely sure what he should be doing to help or what he can do to help.

“Papa my braids!” cries Mary.

Cas spares a look at his watch. He must decide he’s got enough time, as he takes a seat and props the baby up on the couch next to him, Mary already moving to stand between his knees and offering him the comb over her shoulder. Dean watches in awe as sure hands manage her hair smartly. Half the hair is loosely tied off with a hair tie Mary offers without a word. Eyes squint as large, yet somehow delicate, fingers part the hair into three strands. Several twists and turns later and blonde hair has been tamed into something that is quite frankly a work of art. Even baby Jack watches the process in awe, gumming his fist. Mary hands off the hair tie and one side is done.

It’s a well oiled machine.

The other side is done is short order, a kiss pressed to a head and a butt swatted. “Shoes Mary.”

Cas gives up on tugging Jack into a coat and simply throws it around him as he grabs a large bag and Mary dashes by with half an arm in a coat.

“You coming?”

Dean blinks and moves. _Right yes._ Gulping down the rest of his coffee, he dashes off for shoes of his own.

Following the man, baby and girl out of the house, he reaches for the small white box near the front door. Pressing in 3110, he nods his head with satisfaction at the familiar beep and steps outside the door to reach into his pocket for keys he can’t find there.

He blinks.

_What just happened?_

He’d just turned an alarm on – he didn’t even know what that technology was! Turning his body he finds Cas actually frozen in spot, half turned back toward him as if he too has just realised that Dean wouldn’t know how to turn the alarm on.

But huh, apparently he did.

Cas full on beams at him then. Dean is caught, a deer in headlights, unable to turn away, caught in the intensity.

It’s Mary who finally interrupts them. “Papa. Daddy. We can’t be late for school!”

Moment passing, Cas reaches into his pocket for his own keys and quickly steps past Dean to lock the door.

As they head toward the opening garage door, Dean’s jaw drops as those same keys open the back door and swings Jack into the baby seat with a practiced move.

_Not only does he apparently allow his husband to drive his precious car, he has a key of his own for Baby?!_

Cas seems to know what’s going on inside his head as he makes eye contact and smirks.

He’s drawn from his thoughts by the little girl tugging on his jacket and pointing at the door. Oh right. He needs to open the door and help her get in.

Children safely strapped in, Dean automatically moves toward the driver’s seat and then stops.

_Damnit, he can’t drive yet._

Sighing, he rounds the car to the front passenger seat and takes his seat with a pout.

Cas slips in beside him and Dean loses his train of thought as he gulps.

Someone else driving his car should not be getting him hot and bothered.

xXx

The drive isn’t far, though Dean is confused when they pull into a large car park. Are they at a… university?

He isn’t the only one confused when Mary tilts her head in the manner of her other father. “Why is Daddy and Jack coming with us?”

It’s Cas that answers thankfully.

“Because Daddy has a day off so Papa is going to have a day off too and look after him.”

Dean blinks. _He will?_

Shit, he doesn’t even know what Cas does for a job. What kind of a husband does that make him?

“But I want to have a day off too,” she whines.

“But think of everything you’ll miss at school,” cajoles Cas. “You want to tell your friends all about the baking you did yesterday.”

Mary ponders this and squints. “Will Jack have a day off?”

“No sweetheart, Jack is going to day care too.”

Mary deems this acceptable with a dramatic sigh. “Fiiiiine.” 

She’s less accepting as they walk to her classroom.

Cas kneels down to his daughter’s height, somehow managing to keep his balance perfect, even with the baby he’s holding in his arms. “We’ll pick you up later okay sweetheart.”

Mary’s hug is tight. “Both of you.”

Dean’s throat tightens as he bends down too. “Yeah sweetheart, both of us.”

His heart clenches as he watches her disappear into the classroom and out of sight.

Their next stop is a nice looking house. They open the gate and walk up a path lined with pretty flowers as the front door opens to reveal a large black woman with a warm smile.

“Ah hello young Jack.” She takes Jack into her arms as he gums happily.

“Hello Missouri.”

“Hello Castiel.” Her eyes turn to him next. “Dean Winchester.” A shiver goes down his spine as she looks at him intently. “Keep faith,” she says softly. “It will return.”

Dean’s eyes widened. _How did she know?_ They hadn’t told anyone.

“Um what?” he replies intelligently.

She hums. “Just you keep faith.”

He’s still bewildered as they walk back down the path.

“Cas did you tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“About my memory?”

“No.”

“Then how did she know?”

“Mm. Missouri has always claimed to be a little psychic.” He laughs softly. “I swear she knew about Jack before we did.”

“Uh huh.”

He’s still somewhat disbelieving as they pull up into their driveway once again.

Back at home, Dean’s more determined than ever to get his memory back. Starting with the lounge room, he spots a row of photographs on a shelf.

He approaches and reaches for the middle photo frame. It’s a candid wedding photo that’s caught him and Cas mid-laugh, faces smooshed up against each other. He traces a finger over his face. _He looks so damn happy._ He places it back on the shelf and reaches for the one next to it. This is a more formal shot, but it’s clearly another wedding photo: the two of them standing in their matching tuxes looking directly at the camera, a young Mary squished between them, an arm thrown around each shoulder. He reaches for a third one, this time with all four of them in it, a tiny Jack sound asleep with his face buried in Cas’ neck, Mary sitting on his shoulders as they all cram in to the shot together.

“That was at my 40th birthday party. A couple of months ago,” explains Cas.

Dean blinks. _Forty?_ “Dude, you’re old.”

“You’ll be 35 in January,” he counters.

“Shit I’m old too.”

Cas laughs and Dean looks at him in wonder. Something tells him the full bellied laugh is a rare occasion and thus must be treasured.

Their eyes catch and hold.

He couldn’t tell you how much time passed.

Coughing, his hand jerks in the general direction of upstairs. “I’m uh going to check out the bedroom. The kids’ bedroom. You know, triggering memory and all that shit.”

Studiously avoiding the master bedroom, he steps into Jack’s bedroom. He’d only seen it in darkness and takes the opportunity to see it in daylight. The room is painted in a pale yellow, a line of cheery animals sectioning the wall. There’s the cot and a kick ass mobile hanging over it. He just knows he made that: it’s got an Impala, guitar, Batman signal, a little bee and a dinosaur handing from it. He admires the most awesome creation a moment longer before moving on.

Mary’s bedroom is next. The room painted in shades of green, dinosaur decals lining the walls. He eyes the small bed against the wall, duvet haphazardly strewn across the mattress. There’s a fluffy teddy on the bed, a variety of jungle animals on a shelf and a squishy little bee on the windowsill. He leans down to pick up a dinosaur from the floor and tugs up the duvet before placing the toy on the pillow.

When he’d bought this house, these rooms had been covered in horrible wallpaper, puke yellow carpet and in need of much love. Having seen the bedrooms, yeah he can’t dispute the love.

_And Mary and Jack will never know the heartache of never having a place to call home._

Pulling himself away from the slippery slope of dark thoughts, he heads back downstairs. Unable to find Cas he wanders to the back of the house. The door to the laundry is shut, but the room opposite has the door propped open. He’s only ever used that as a junk room but as he pulls the door open and surveys a desk strewn with papers and a truly mind-boggling quantity of books on the shelves, it’s clear that this is a study and Cas’ domain – not his.

He spots another photo on the desk and steps in to pick it up. It’s a sunset photo with two people standing close together backlit in shadow, arms around each others’ shoulders. Even though he couldn’t see faces, he could tell it was the two of them. 

“That was on our honeymoon.” Dean does not jump two feet into the air thankyouverymuch. “We went to Hawaii.”

Dean looks at him in wonder. “You got me on a plane?!”

“I had my ways.” His tone indicates that those ways were likely sexual.

Blushing, he puts the photo down and tries to find something else – anything else – to talk about. Looking at the walls, his jaw drops at the sheer number of certificates that adorn it.

“Dude, you’re a Doctor? What the hell are you doing with a dumbass like me?”

“Dean,” Cas warns as he steps toward him. “You may have lost 8 years of your memories, but that’s no excuse to think so poorly of yourself.” 

“Sammy got the brains in this family not me,” he mumbles. “Didn’t think I’d ever catch me a Doctor.”

“Professor actually.”

_Professor._

“I work at the university next to Mary’s preschool.”

_Professor Novak._

“I teach theology.”

Dean’s mouth goes dry.

He wonders if he wears glasses. That’s a ready made fantasy right there. His brain screeches to a halt. Wait, he’s not supposed to find this attractive. He’s not gay.

Right.

_Right?_

xXx

He’s barely said hello to Charlie two hours later before Dean blurts out the very question at the forefront of his mind. _Well, right behind his apparent attraction to the guy that he married._ “I’m not gay.”

_Winchester men are manly man. We ain’t poofters._

“No you’re not gay Dean,” comes the patient reply as Charlie takes her seat. “You’re bisexual.”

“I’m a what now?”

“You like both women and men.”

“No I don’t.”

His best friend rolls her eyes at him. “Dean, I know you’ve lost 8 years of your life but you do remember that your crushes are Dr Sexy and Harrison Ford right? Shouldn’t that be ringing some bells.”

Dean blushes. “That’s different.”

She raises an eyebrow at him.

Whatever.

_No son of mine will be a fucking fairy._

Charlie seems to be able to sense his impending meltdown as she leans forward to rest a hand on his clenched fists. “Dean. There’s no need to freak out. You’re still you.”

He laughs harshly. “What would Dad have to say about that huh?” The man’s been dead for over a year, absent for much longer than that, and still has far too much to say about his life. He belatedly realises that John Winchester has been dead for much longer than that for his present self. He’s not sure what to do with that information.

“You’re not your father Dean,” chides Charlie irritably before she turns serious. “Dean, you are allowed to be happy with Cas.” She pats him with a laugh. “Actually, you’re the most happy you I’ve ever seen since you’ve been with Cas.”

Before he can brush off her comment a new voice enters the conversation. “How you doing honey?” A firm but soft hand grips his shoulder as Dean turns to look up at Ellen, still his pseudo mother figure after all these years. 

His mask slips back into place. “Just fine and dandy.”

She doesn’t seem convinced.

“Hey maybe this memory loss means you’re now shite at pool. There’s got to be a perk to this.”

Dean snorts as Jo places a burger and fries down in front of him. “You wish squirt.” His eyes widen when she steps back. Jo ain’t a pipsqueak anymore. “You grew up.”

Jo snorted. “Speak for yourself old man.”

“Hey, show some respect for your elders.”

Ellen rolls her eyes with a sigh. “Children.” Someone walks in and Ellen acknowledges them with a nod before squeezing Dean’s shoulder and heading back to the bar.

“Try not to fry your one remaining brain cell Winchester,” Jo shoots over her shoulder as she follows her mom.

She’s too far away for him to come back with a speedy retort and so he settles for taking a big ass bite out of his burger instead.

It’s Charlie who rolls her eyes again this time. “I swear some things never change.”

He gives her a wide grin.

He’s picking at the last of his fries when another familiar person approaches the table. Sheriff Jody Mills nods in greeting. 

“How you doing Dean?”

_Is this freaking ask-Dean-how-he-is Day?_

“Fine.”

As Jody stands there longer, he gets the sense she has more to say. She’s searching his face and seems to come to a decision with a small nod. “You’ll be glad to hear that the woman driving the other car that caused the accident has been charged.”

“Right. Um, yes. That’s good.”

It feels weird talking about an accident when he can’t remember it.

“How’s the family?”

_Family, right. Yes. Husband, daughter and son and all that._

“They’re fine?”

Jody nods and pats him on the shoulder before heading to the bar to pick up her regular lunch order. “Give Cas my love.”

He chokes on a fry. “Ah, yeah. Sure.”

_Love. Sheesh._

Taking a sip of his drink, he still can’t get the fact that Cas is a man and he’s gay out of his head.

“I married a man Charlie.”

“Yes Dean,” she says patiently. “You did.”

“Not just any man,” Dean corrects. “But a genius one with all these letters after his name. What the hell does he even see in me?”

He flinches when Charlie whacks him on the shoulder. “Oi, don’t talk about my best friend that way.”

“Where the hell did I even meet him?”

He’s surprised when Charlie bursts into laughter, arms wrapped around her waist as she throws her head back.

“You’ll have to ask Cas that,” she wheezes. 

Dean’s brow wrinkles until she finally stops giggling. Her expression turns serious as she leans in. “Now listen up Padawan. Missed much nerd one has.”


	5. Chapter Five

Cas picks him up from The Roadhouse not long after – already with sleeping Jack in the back – and they head to the school to pick up Mary.

Still unsettled by his conversation with Charlie on his sexuality, he steers clear and decides on a more neutral topic.

“Ah, Jody says hi.”

Cas spares him a sharp look before turning back to the road. “Oh?”

Dean swallows as he nods. “Says the woman who was driving the other car has been charged.”

A flash of anger crosses Cas’ face before he schools his features. “That’s good to know.”

They drive the rest of the way in silence. 

Standing outside the preschool, Dean looks around to see if anything triggers his memory.

A slim woman in exercise clothing bends over in front of him, her firm butt fair and square in his line of sight as she fixes her shoelace. She turns to find him looking at her and raises an eyebrow.

_Well this is certainly something familiar._

Flirting is his default mode when presented with an attractive woman and he slips right into it when she takes a step closer and places a hand on his upper arm.

“Well hello there stranger.”

A door opening interrupts their conversation as a stream of kids race toward them. Dean looks away from Lisa to find Cas staring at him, blue eyes intense.

_Oh shit._

He stumbles as he realises what the hell just almost happened. Flirting is Straight Dean. Old Dean. But apparently New Dean isn’t Straight Dean. He’s Bi-sexually Dean (did he get the right Charlie?).

And he’s never been a cheater.

“Well, now I know why Lisa always does pick up and not drop off,” mutters Cas as he places Jack in his arms and plants himself firmly at his side.

Dean suppresses a grin at the blatant display of possession.

“What can I say,” he says winningly. “Everyone wants a bit of this hot stuff.”

“Yes Dean.” Cas honest to goodness actually rolls his eyes at that. But then the tone shifts. “But you’re mine. Not hers.”

Dean gulps as Cas turns away and leans down to swing up Mary into his arms. “Hello sweetheart. Did you have a good day?”

Dean follows them back to the car in a daze.

Dean takes the lead from Mary who seems to have the after school routine down pat, eating a snack (which is interrupted by another pooptastic diaper from Jack – and how dare he smile) before being dragged outside to play.

Dean steps out the back door and realises that he hasn’t actually seen the backyard properly yet. His last recollection of this was just a bumpy lawn with some patches of weeds the only decoration. He’s clearly been busy since because he can see raised beds that have green things growing in them, a playhouse and check out that tire swing. There’s also more flowers to provide a place for bees to gather pollen, because bees are an important part of our ecosystem. _How does he know that?_

Shaken from his memories, he pushes Mary on the swing at her insistence, holding Jack in one arm as the baby looks around in awe, seemingly just happy to be outside and cuddled.

He marvels at his daughter’s energy as she then moves onto hopscotch (he recognises the numbers scrawled in his hand on the path in chalk), upgrading it to skipping down the squares before asking for his assistance to fill up a tiny watering can so that she can water the flowers. He grins at her concentration, teeth biting her bottom lip.

When she’s finished and proudly puffs out her chest to look at him, he offers applause as seems to be expected, lifting up Jack’s hands to join in too.

Her attention shifts away as she looks past him. “I is done the watering Papa!”

Dean turns to find Cas standing at the door, framed by the kitchen light.

_How long had he been standing there?_

“Well done Mary.” Cas swings Mary up into his arms as she runs to him and then presses a kiss to her head. Dean’s heart clenches.

He blushes when Cas looks at him next and their gaze holds.

“Dinner is ready.”

Dean happily inhales the scent that greets him when he walks through the door. _Ah, good old mac and cheese._ With extra cheese and bacon he discovers when he sits down.

“This is really good,” says Dean, mouth stuffed full, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk.

Cas groans with the air of someone long suffering. “There are children watching your manners Dean. Or lack thereof.”

Dean swallows and it’s almost painful.

“This is really good,” he offers again with a winning smile.

Cas rolls his eyes but Dean saw his mouth lift up, just a little. _Yep, he’ll take that._

“I make two things well,” he says instead. “And this is one of them.”

Dean takes his lead from Cas on the bedtime routine, but when he leaves the bathroom to grab fresh towels, Dean somehow still knows exactly how much water is needed in the bath and where to find the bubble bath.

Jack is a slippery little eel who takes delight in splashing his little arms and legs. To be fair the kid basically lives in a puddle of drool right now so he’s probably right at home. He washes Mary’s hair and gives her a mohawk. _Cos he’s cool like that._

Dean gets flustered by Cas’ proximity and freezes when he places his hands on his hips to move him. Cas seems oblivious to the entire thing.

Both children in pyjamas, Mary asks for Dean to do storytime. _Read a book – yup he could do that._ Plus the poor guy looked like he could do with a moment to himself. Dean looks up at Cas, who seems taken aback. Before Dean can question it, Cas steps forward to place the book in his hands and press a kiss to their heads.

“Good night my children.” 

As Cas leaves the room, Dean wonders if this might be something he usually does. Mary leans against him to poke at the book and he returns to the moment.

“Chapter Seven. It was… ”

Chapter completed, Jack is curled up asleep in his lap and Mary curled up into his side fighting slumber. Yeah, this is the life.

_He’s a bit jealous of future him._

Easing Mary under the covers, he presses a kiss to her forehead before turning off the lamp and slipping from the room. Placing Jack in his own bed, he freezes when the baby began to move. Humming _Deep Purple_ , he soon settles.

Heading downstairs, he stilled at the sight of Cas wrapping – or attempting to wrap – a pile of presents.

“Dean,” he pouts. “This isn’t working.”

_That pout should not look adorable on a grown man._

Still blushing at realisation that he may be kind of attracted to a guy that he’s well, married to, he takes the distraction for what it is and helps.

The majority of the presents are dinosaur themed – a jigsaw, a book, and a toy (“Another one?” Cas has the audacity to look ashamed). Dean picks up the last box and whistles. 

“I know I’ve lost eight years, but geez I feel like I’m on a spaceship somewhere.”

Wrapping it with ease, their task is complete.

Cas stands up gracefully – damn the man – as his knees groan. _Shit, he really was getting old._

He doesn’t realise he’s said it aloud until Cas laughs at him and extends an arm to pull him up.

“How are you so limber dude?”

“Yoga.”

Right.

Yoga.

Mind merrily going off into the gutter, the next words join him there.

“Let’s try and actually get you into bed tonight hmm.”

Dean blushes. “Ah…”

Cas arches an eyebrow. “There is a perfectly good sofabed in the study Dean.”

“Right. Yes. The Study.”

Bed efficiently made, Dean watches Cas head back to the kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“Preparing Jack’s night bottle.”

“What, he doesn’t sleep through the night?”

“He’s a four month old baby Dean. No he doesn’t.” 

“Oh.” Pause. “I can help?”

Cas smiles at him softly. “I’ve got this. You’re still recovering and you need all the sleep you can get.”

“Are you sure?” It feels wrong of him to leave him.

“Go to bed Dean.” 

As lays down on the thin mattress, he decides he’ll try and keep an ear out.

xXx

He wakes up in the morning.

It’s a little less jarring, if still ridiculously early, and he shuts the door firmly behind him as he leaves the study. He really doesn’t want to answer any more awkward questions from his daughter. He may be off the sofa, but something tells me that the sofabed in the study won’t cut it with his four year old.

Correction – five year old.

Damn.

Sticking his head into Mary’s room, he sighs with relief to find her sound asleep, arms and legs akimbo.

Looking into Jack’s room, he finds him awake. Slipping into the room he figures he may as well get the baby sorted at least. Jack waves his fists around when he comes into his line of sight.

“Hey kiddo. Did you have a good sleep?”

The gummy grin seems a reply in the affirmative.

Diaper changed and dressing him in a fresh onesie, Dean slips the baby into his arms and presses a kiss to the soft forehead. “Let’s see how much longer before your sister wakes up hmm?”

Jack seems happy enough, so he risks placing him in the bouncer on the kitchen counter with a plastic ring for him to gnaw on as he turns the coffee machine on for the precious caffeine.

He gets one sip before the calm is interrupted by a tornado whirling into the kitchen and throwing her arms up.

“It’s today!” she screeches.

“Why, is something special happening today?” he asks innocently.

He’d pulled the same trick on Sam when he was younger.

“Daddy!”

Sam had squawked just like that too. No doubting she’s a Winchester.

“It’s my birthday.”

“You don’t say.”

Grinning, he swoops her up into his arms as she giggles. “Happy 3rd birthday.”

Mary rearranges herself to look at him solemnly, hands framing his face. “I’m five Daddy. Did your hurted head make you forget?”

Dean pushes down the wince. “How could I ever forget?” Pretending to gnaw on her hands, Mary tries to escape with a laugh.

“Happy Birthday Mary.”

“Papa!” Mary wriggles out of his arms and throws herself at the newly arrived man. Cas gathers her up into his arms. “I’m five today Papa.” She emphasises this with her full hand showing the numbers, almost hitting Cas in the face.

Dean watches as the tired man presses a kiss to the palm and gently tugs it back. “Yes it is quite the achievement.” 

“So what would birthday girl like to eat for breakfast?”

“Pancakes!”

Pancakes it is. 

She buzzes in her seat in excitement as Dean makes breakfast and Cas feeds Jack. “Can I open my presents before school too?”

The response is in stereo. 

“After you’ve eaten.” 

Dean catches Cas’ eye. Time freezes. His cheeks are red as he turns away to save the pancake before him from burning.

A special pancake with a choc chip smiley face is demolished by an excited little girl. Relocating to the lounge room, Dean takes a seat on the floor with his legs crossed. He startles when Mary backs up and plants herself in his lap.

Jack is placed on a blanket on the floor on his tummy, little head lifting and dropping as he tries to take in as much of the action as possible. Cas sits on the floor opposite him, head propped on the couch, an open look of affection adorning his face.

Dean swallows.

There’s only a small pile of presents, the majority expected on Saturday at the party. Their smartly wrapped gifts from the night before are ripped open excitedly as Mary oohs and ahhs over each. She throws her arms around both of them in thanks before dropping down to gently press a kiss to Jack’s hair.

She takes a seat on the carpet and tugs the jigsaw box closer to her, ready to tear it open when Cas reaches out a hand to grip the box gently.

“It’s time to get ready for school Mary.”

She looks ready to throw a tantrum as Cas gives her a look. “Your presents will still be here when you get home.”

Mary ponders this before her face lights up. “Plus we is taking birthday cookies to school.”

Dean has to laugh at her glee. “Yes we are.”

It’s a mad rush out the door, no time for braids today. Getting out of the car, Dean follows the strict instructions of his daughter to hold on to the cookies and not let go. “Cos they is special Daddy.”

“Uh huh.”

He turns around to find Jack strapped to Cas’ chest in what looked like a reverse backpack thingy. _What the hell was that and how on earth had he gotten the kid in there so quickly?_

When Cas tilts his head in question, he shakes his own and waves it off.

Mary takes Dean’s hand and pulls her in the direction of her classroom. She leads him straight through the door and right up to the teacher. Miss Hannah gasps as she turns. “Why happy birthday Mary.”

Mary grins. “Thank you. I is bought birthday cookies.”

“You brought birthday cookies did you,” gently corrects the teacher as she takes the bag from Dean.

“What a genius idea for birthday cookies and not cupcakes Mr Winchester.” Dean automatically opens his mouth to respond but is stunned to find the teacher addressing Cas.

Oh right.

Husband.

_Does that mean he took his name?_

“It’s a Winchester tradition.” As Cas elaborates on the napkins they’ve popped into the freaking reusable bag, Dean smirks as the teacher fawns over him. _Looks like he wasn’t the only one who had a lady after him._

He says as such when they leave the classroom.

“I have no idea what you are talking about Dean.”

“Sure Cas. Sure.”

The urge to swat him on the ass is strong and he just barely restrains himself.


	6. Chapter Six

Jack dropped off with Missouri, they head to the hospital. Deeming Cas to do an acceptable parking job of his Baby, Dean looks up at the imposing building before him.

Yup. Still hate hospitals.

“Um, Dean Winchester.”

The nurse looks at the computer and then looks up with a well-practiced smile. “Take a seat and we’ll call your name when we’re ready.”

He takes a seat with a tight smile.

The waiting room is busy, people of varying ages and injuries around him. Well, obvious injuries that needed bandages and shit. He wondered how many people had injuries that no one could see. Cos sure as hell no one could see he was missing half a brain. His stressed thoughts are interrupted by the soft pressure of a hand placed on his knee.

He freezes, not used to the contact. Looking down, he gapes at the tanned palm still on his knee. Looking up, he gets caught in blue, blue eyes.

“Dean.”

He swallows. “Sorry, I hate hospitals.”

“I know.”

He forces himself to tear his eyes away from the man beside him and look around the room once again. His knee starts bouncing with nerves soon after and the hand squeezes. It’s a nice pressure. _Wait, what?_ He knows he’s blushing as he mumbles out another “sorry”.

He finds himself twisting his wedding band next. 

Thankfully he’s saved soon after when his name is called.

“Dean Winchester?”

He flies up out of his seat and dashes for the man holding the clipboard. “Here! Let’s get this over with shall we Doc.”

The doctor blinks. “Ah, sure.”

Dean steadfastly ignores the snort of laughter behind him.

Taking a seat in front of the short blonde man, he muses that this ain’t no Doctor Sexy. Remembering that the last time he thought he had a Doctor Sexy he’d mistaken him for Cas – his husband – he slams a brake on those thoughts. 

“So how are you?” comes the practiced question.

“Ah, fine?” he replies. “Well apart from the missing hole in my memory and years of my life I can’t remember, all fine.”

“You would be on your death bed and still be saying you’re fine,” growled the man beside him.

He waves Cas off. “So Doc when is all my memory going to come back?”

“Why don’t you tell me what things you have been remembering.” The doctor leans back in his seat. _Geez, he didn’t sign up for a therapy session._

“Well the most important thing is that I still remember how to make coffee. That’s important right?” The doctor nods his head neutrally. He spots Cas rolling his eyes. “Don’t roll your eyes at me dude, you’re the one that can’t function without it.”

“That is true.” Cas shrugs his shoulder.

“Ah what else do I remember… um, I somehow knew how to lock up the house yesterday and turn the alarm on when we left which was kind of cool.” Cas beams once again. “Plus I know some sign language – so weird. Is that like living in a different part of my brain?” The doctor declines to respond and he feels obliged to continue.

_What else can he talk about that he’s remembered._ Or well, learned. _Well, he’s learned he likes guys._ No, nope. Not talking to the Doc about Cas.

“I’ve got two kids now, and it kind of sucks that I can’t remember them. It’s Mary’s birthday today for Chrissake. Bloody weird that I can remember the name of my kid brother’s dog but not the name of my kids.” Plus that he called Cas angel, but that was neither here nor there. _Everyone called their significant others that right?_ A thought occurs to him. “We haven’t told the kids that I’ve got amnesia.” He frowns suddenly. “Should we?”

The doctor’s voice is soothing. “Whatever works best for you as a family is what’s best.”

“Right ah yes,” Dean mutters. He still hadn’t quite computed that he has a family.

The doctor stands up and pulls something out of a large envelope. X-rays are slotted onto the board and a light switched on.

_When did he have those?_ Actually scratch that, he’s glad he can’t remember. While flying may be his number one fear, sliding into an x-ray machine would have to be a close second. He isn’t claustrophobic, but gee that ain’t fun.

As the doctor umms and ahhs, Cas’ hand is suddenly holding his hand and he grips it with no shame.

“So,” the doctor turns around and Dean feels a wave of foreboding. “I can see there is no actual damage to your brain. Amnesia is essentially its own beast – your memory could come back a day from now, or a week from now – or it may be months or years away.”

Dean’s heart falls.

“But,” added the doctor, “it’s a positive sign that you have remembered so much, even if it is unintentional. Sure, some of this can be attributed to muscle memory, but I’m optimistic that your memories will return when they are ready.”

“Right. When it’s ready.” He sighs as he flops back in his chair. “Whenever that may be.”

“I’m going to clear you to go back to work – light duties only,” he warned with a raised finger as Dean perks up _. He was allowed to work on cars again. Win!_

“It’s best for you to slowly get back into your regular routines. This will help the recovery process. So whatever your usual day is – going to work, doing the school run, cooking or whatever – ease back into it.” Movement out of the corner of his eye has him turning. _Was Cas actually writing down all of what the doctor was saying?_ _Nerd._

“And I’m clearing you to drive.”

Dean punches the air. “Whoo, I can drive Baby.” (Never mind that he sorta kinda had already unofficially done so.)

The appointment doesn’t last much longer and Dean can’t wait to get out into the car park. His hand is already outstretched for the car keys as they get closer. He swears Cas is rolling his eyes at him again, even as he drops the keys into his palm.

Seated behind the wheel, Dean turns to his passenger.

“So… where to?”

“The doctor recommended being around familiar places, so shall we get some lunch?”

If he was honest, he’d half expected to be heading to the Roadhouse but instead they park outside a diner. He sees Cas looking at him intently – the unspoken question of “anything?” leaking from his pores – and wishes that there was some spark of memory he could offer as he grimaced and shook his head.

His phone rings as they’re getting out of the car.

“Hey Sammy.”

“Dean!” He hasn’t heard that high pitch in years. “How did the appointment go?”

Dean fills his brother in on what the doctor said. “So we’re trying to get things back to normal as possible. Cas has brought me to some place that we go to a few times apparently. Some place called _Purgatory_.” 

This place clearly has some significant meaning going by his brother’s response.

“Aww,” said Sam. “You’re going on a date.”

Dean blushes and Cas looks at him curiously. “Shut up Sammy.”

He hangs up on his brother making smoochy noises, but it’s still on his mind as they enter the place and take a seat. _Is it even considered a date when you’re married?_

He didn’t realise he’d said it out loud until Cas smirks.

Blushing, Dean doesn’t know the waitress that approaches, but she seems to know them as she places two beers on the table and winks. “I’ll be right back with your usual.”

Cas nods his thanks as Dean gapes. Apparently he’s been coming to this place long enough to have a usual – unheard of outside the Roadhouse. When the burger arrives soon after Dean looks down with a frown. _Has he suddenly developed a liking for pickles?_

A hand reaches into his line of sight and plucks it from his plate.

His response is instant. “Dude what are you doing?”

The hand freezes and he watches the head tilt. He’s struck suddenly that this must be where Jack and Mary got it from. “Since when do you like pickles?”

Dean shuts his mouth. That is very true. He’s gratified when some onion rings are then dumped onto his plate. “Nice trade.”

“I know.”

Food occupies their them for some time before Dean clears his throat.

“So what’s a normal week for us?”

Cas puts his own burger down. “Mary goes to pre-school five days a week, 8:45am – 2:45pm, and Jack goes into day care at the same time. I usually do the school drop off with Mary and you take Jack with you in the mornings on the way to work. And then you pick them up on the way home. Except on Thursdays and Fridays.”

Dean takes another of his burger and asks his next question with food in his mouth. “What happens on those days?”

Cas raises that bloody eyebrow again. “I’ve got an 8am class on Thursday mornings” – Dean winces in sympathy for his students – “so you do drop off and I do pick up after Mary’s softball lesson.” He takes a sip of his drink. “And then on Fridays I’m at home with Jack so you do the drop off and we alternate pick up. You work an occasional Saturday, and we usually have a barbeque at our place or Sam’s at least once a month.”

“Cool, so you get a long weekend.”

“I’m working on my book Dean.”

“You’re a writer too?” As if he needed another reason to wonder why on earth this genius was with a mechanic like him. His scrambled brain realises something. “Wait, you said you usually work from home with Jack on a Friday. But why did I have Jack last Friday then?”

Cas winces. “I was delivering a guest lecture. So you were taking Jack with you to work for a few hours that day.”

“Ah.” He pushes ketchup around with a fry. “So we should try and get back into the routine right.”

Cas looked at him warningly. “We don’t need to get back into it 100% yet. We can take our time.”

Dean protested. “I’m more than ready to head back to work tomorrow.”

Cas gives him a measured look. “If you’re sure. I’ve got a few days sick leave still left from the university but I could go back tomorrow too if you-“

Dean interrupts him. “Dude go for it. You didn’t need to take any sick leave for me,” he protests.

Cas just glares at him again.

Dean shuts his mouth.

Change of topic it is.

His brain decides to fixate on one other thing he’s been burning to ask. “I gotta know man. How did we meet? Sam and Charlie won’t tell me.”

Cas smirks at him as he picks up a fry and twirls it around his plate. Dean swallows.

“You gave me a lap dance.”

Beat.

_Is it possible for his mind to explode?_

Cas grins as he takes a sip of his drink, clearly enjoying this far too much the fucker. Dean swallows. “You’re gonna have to help me out here. I-” his voice stumbles, “gave you a l-lap dance?”

“Yup.” The “p” even pops.

He takes another sip, eyes never leaving his as he makes him wait again.

“Caaas.” (And he’s not whining thank you very much.)

“Mmm.” Cas sits back, clearly in storytelling mode. “You were out for your birthday drinks. I was out for a drink with peers.” He laughs as he reminisces. “Well, dragged out for a drink with fellow students. You’d had, well, a few too many and had decided that the structural post would make a good stripper pole and commenced pole dancing.” Dean covered his face in shame as he blushed. But he wasn’t finished yet. “It was quite amusing I must admit. Bela even tried to pop a dollar into your belt but the next thing I know is that you’re sitting on my lap, calling me Blue Eyes and giving me a lap dance. You also kindly offered to take this elsewhere, “somewhere more private” I think your words were.” _Did he seriously just use air quotes?_ “Sam and Charlie came along then to drag you away. But not before you’d written your number on my palm.” He shrugged as Dean groaned. No wonder Charlie and Sam were laughing so hard when he asked how they met. “I texted the next day and the rest, as they say, is history.”

The soft laughter fades and Dean winces as he realises that it’s currently a one sided remembered shared history. He clears his throat and tries to move into safer topics.

“And then we decided to have kids.”

“In a way,” hums Cas. “You knocked up a woman.”

“I cheated?!” Dean is horrified at the prospect. That right there is a John Winchester bullshit move.

“No Dean. You had a one night stand on New Years Eve and knew nothing about it until Social Services contacted us 10 months later.”

Dean opened his mouth and shut it. Actually that did sound like him. Well then him, which was also now him, well then him in a now him body.

His brain hurt.

And Cas is still talking. “… and adopted her. And then when Social Services called us again that she was pregnant we decided to take Jack as well.”

“Wait why would they call us?”

Cas tilted his head. “Because the mother is a drug addict.”

Oh. “Sounds like I made some pretty shit decisions.”

Cas hummed. “Maybe. But I can’t complain about the results.”

“Wait you said drug addict – were the kids okay?”

“Jack had a tough start to life, but yes, they’re okay.”

He waves his hand and tries to make complete sense of this. “So let me get this straight. Mary is biologically mine and Jack is biologically her half brother but not biologically related to either of us and you adopted both of them.”

Cas takes a sip of his drink and places it on the table before them. “Including the part where we also got married nearly three years ago and I become a Winchester as well, yes, that about summarises it.” 

“You took my name?” He still couldn’t believe it.

“Yes it seemed most prudent, seeing as you and Mary already had it.”

“Prudent. Right. Do you always talk like a dictionary?”

Cas raises an eyebrow. _Geez that man can say a billion words without opening his mouth._

Dean is still trying to wrap his head around it. _He’ll get used to this eventually right?_ He’d met Cas, started a relationship with Cas, and then a baby had literally been dropped into their lap.

“Why on earth did you stick around?” asks Dean incredulously.

Cas frowns at him. “Because I love you.” Dean tries to brush the sentiment off, but Cas isn’t having any of it as he suddenly grips his hand fiercely. “You don’t think you deserve to be loved? You are worthy of that, and so much more. Don’t forget that Dean.”

_This intensity should NOT be turning him on._

He can breathe again when the waitress approaches the table. “What pie’s on special today?”

Dean just looks at his husband in awe. He still doesn’t know how he ended up with such a guy, but damn he picked good.

And the pie is just as good, moaning as he takes his first bite. He looks up and blushes at the intent look Cas is giving him.

Yup, sexual attraction: reading you loud and clear.

xXx

They pick up Mary soon after and then pick up a drooling Jack before heading home. The birthday girl is buzzing – whether it’s a sugar high or just high on birthday life – as she zooms straight for her pile of new presents.

Dinner is chicken strips and vegetables – which is apparently Mary’s favourite. Which means he’s going to have to eat them bloody greens as well, being a good role model and shit. _Damn this Dad business was tough._

Dean takes one look at Cas attempting to start making it and gently nudges him away. “I got this.” He pushes his protesting husband from the room.

“Uncle Gabe is going to be calling us soon,” says Cas after dinner is finished.

They prop the computer up on the low coffee table and take a seat on the sofa. Mary is buzzing in place between them, Jack lying back against Cas’ stomach, happily gumming on the finger his father offers him.

The man who comes on screen soon after looks quite frankly nothing like his husband: he’s short, blonde and loud mouthed.

“Hello Gabe.” 

“Hey Cassie. Marysaurus. Jack-a-roo. Dean-o how’s the head? Still empty?” 

Dean scowls.

“So what was your birthday cake?”

“No silly,” laughs Mary. “The cake is for the party on Saturday. Is going to be a very most awesome dinosaur cake.” She leans into him. “Daddy is going to make it.”

Dean looks over Mary’s head. _I am?_ He mouths.

Cas gives him a tight smile as Mary continues to talk.

“We had birthday cookies instead!”

“I want cookies,” whined the older man.

“Don’t worry Uncle Gabe,” promises Mary solemnly with all the wisdom of a newly five year old. “I’ll save you some.”

“Hands off my cookies Dean-o,” warns the short man victoriously.

“What?!”

Gabriel ignores his protestations. “Will Uncle Samalicious be at the party?”

“It’s Uncle Sam-my,” chided Mary with a theatrical sigh. _Clearly this is an argument she’s had before._

“Uncle Sammy gallon of hot stuff.”

“Gabriel!” hisses Cas as Mary’s brow furrows. “What’s a gallon?”

Dean chokes. “Ah Cas, is there something I need to know about our brothers?”

Cas sighs as he grips the top of his nose. “I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s decidedly one-sided.”

“What, a man can’t miss his Samoose?”

Dean snorts as he tries to hide his laughter.

“He’s not a moose!” protests Mary. “He’s just Uncle Sammy.” 

“Just Uncle Sammy, got it,” repeats Gabe. “I will get it right on Saturday. Hello Just Uncle Sammy.”

“No,” protests a giggling Mary. “It’s just Uncle Sammy.”

“But that’s what I said!” exclaims Gabe with mock innocence. “Just Uncle Sammy.”

As the conversation descends into further ridiculousness, Dean turns to look at Cas. “Your brother is an annoying asshole.”

“You said so the first time you met him too,” laughs Cas even as Mary screeches “Daddy!” and dashes off for the swear jar.

“Worth it,” mutters Dean already reaching into his pocket.

Mary shakes the jar gleefully on camera after the expected dollar is dropped in. “We’re so close.”

Gabe grins. “Candy time!”

“No Uncle Gabe,” she corrects raising a finger as if telling him off. “Ice cream time.”

Gabe is not daunted. “Candy on ice cream time!”

The call is wrapped up soon after and Cas has the idea to bring out Mary’s baby book so that Dean can look through it under the guise of acknowledging Mary’s five years, but also to see if anything will trigger his memories.

Dean opens the large scrapbook which has clearly been put together with great care. He recognises his writing on same pages, but it’s clear that Cas has put the most effort into this.

Must be a Professor thing. _Must not dwell on that visual._

The first page is Dean dressed up as Batman holding a tiny baby in his arms.

“Ah Cas,” asks Dean as Mary giggles. “Remind me again why I’m dressed up like this?”

“It was Halloween,” replies Cas with a soft smile. “We got the call on Halloween and you were out the door before you even thought to get changed.”

_Huh._

The next page is Mary’s birth certificate. The opposite side holds a copy of the adoption certificate which proudly proclaims that she is Mary Rose Novak Winchester. Dean traces a light finger over the name.

Cas’ finger brushes his warmly as he points at a date. "That's the day we got married too."

Dean swallows.

Married.

He’s married.

_One day it’ll stop being shocking yeah?_

Mary points at herself gleefully as each page turns. Every year there’s a photo of birthday cookies – Mary assisting in various ways (or not) – and Dean’s heart clenches.

When the book is done, Cas promising to add another birthday cookie baking photo, plus one from the party, Mary bounces in her seat. “Now Jack’s!”

It’s thinner – nearly five months not quite the same content as five years. The first page is a photo of Jack as a tiny baby, this time held by Cas, with Mary sitting on Dean’s lap next to him, all grinning up at the camera, Jack’s untrained eyes solemnly managing to gaze in the right vicinity.

The birth certificate and adoption certificate are on the next pages.

Jack Novak Winchester. 

Dean’s attention is drawn to Jack’s birth date and his jaw drops.

Fourth of May 2013.

May Fourth.

May the Fourth be with you.

Cas laughs at his expression as Mary pokes at the picture and then at Jack. (“That’s you Jacky.”) 

“I swear that you and Charlie were more excited about Jack being born on that date than Jack actually being born.”

Dean nodded solemnly. “Most awesome it is.”


	7. Chapter Seven

Dean wakes up with stretch on Wednesday morning and putters into the kitchen. Turning the coffee machine on, he yawns as he heads up to the baby’s room. Jack is awake already, looking up at the mobile.

Scooping up the baby into his arms, he wipes away the drool and slides his finger into his mouth to feel his gums. “Got a tooth coming hey kiddo,” he says softly. Changing his diaper and slipping him into a clean onesie he notices this one is printed with little bees. _Gee wonder who got him that one._

Spotting a little Batman beanie, he grins as he slips it over soft wispy hair. Jack is going to have a little bit of both of his fathers today. 

Slipping the baby into his arms, Jack seemingly content to simply rest there a moment, he pops his head into Mary’s room and sees his daughter still sound asleep. Returning to the kitchen, he holds Jack carefully as he makes two hot mugs of coffee.

He hears an alarm clock in the distance and opens the fridge to grab the milk and Jack’s ready made bottle.

He’s seated at the table shortly after sipping his own coffee, propping up Jack’s bottle as he does so. Cas shuffles into the room looking his usual (well usual in the short time that he’s had the pleasure of seeing it) delightful death-warmed-over-self that he is, complete with his mussed bed hair.

Dean has to smile at the pyjama bottoms he’s wearing though. Bees. They’re covered in bees.

Cas scoops up his precious coffee, brushes a soft finger against Jack’s cheek and then presses a kiss to Dean’s head as he turns to leave the room.

Dean freezes.

Turning his head slowly he watches Cas come back into his line of sight blinking.

“Erm…. Good morning?”

He’s not sure who is blushing harder. “Morning,” Cas offers in that low scratchy pre-coffee voice of his before disappearing once again.

Dean lifts his hand and presses his fingers to the spot that is still tingling.

A fully clothed Cas joins them not long after carrying a sleepy Mary still clad in pyjamas. It’s only after he’s placed her in a seat at the table that Dean gets a proper look at his attire.

Black pants.

White sleeved shirt rolled up to elbows.

A fucking bow tie.

Suspenders.

And glasses.

_Gulp._

It’s one thing knowing that Cas is a Professor – but seeing it in the flesh? Hell yes that’s spank bank material.

Pressing down firmly on those thoughts, another thought occurs to him.

“Cas?”

“Hmmm?”

“Where’s our other car?”

A shadow crosses over Cas’ face.

“The police towed it away after the accident. It’s a write off.”

_Oh._

He’s going to have to do something about that.

“I was thinking I could head into work for a few hours today.” He does his best pleading face _a la_ Sam. “Just for a few hours you know. Get back into the swing of things.”

Cas ponders this for several long moments. “Promise me you’ll come straight home if it is too much or your head starts to hurt?"

He sighs. “Yes mother.”

“Dean,” growled Cas.

Dean swallowed and sat up to attention. “I promise Cas.”

He nods.

They agree to drop of Jack at daycare, Dean at the garage and then Cas will drive the Impala to work and walk Mary to school.

It’s a crying shame when those suspenders get covered up and Dean wrinkles his nose at the offending garment. Flattering it is not. 

“Dude, what’s with the coat?”

Cas looks down at his trenchcoat and then looks up at him. “I’m wearing it?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “No shit Sherlock.”

Cas just lifts up that infuriating eyebrow of his and smirks at him.

That seems to be the end of the discussion and it’s not long until Dean is happily stepping into his coveralls and propping open the hood of his latest restoration. Another perk for loving old cars, eight years of lost memories means jack squat when you’re working with things several decades old.

Humming happily, time passes him by until he’s distracted by Bobby yelling out.

“Dean!”

“What?”

“Your better half is on the phone.”

Wiping his hands on a cloth, he heads to the office. “Hey Cas.”

“Hello Dean.”

_Why does that phrase make him feel warm and tingly?_

“How’s it going?”

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Everything is fine.” He just barely resists the urge to add “mother”.

Cas hums and Dean gets the feeling that his other half knows exactly what he’s just done. He grins. “So how’s it going?”

“I’m going to abscond from my office hours this afternoon.”

“Planning a prison break,” laughs Dean. “You rebel you.”

“I don’t see how departing one’s lawful place of employment warrants being classed as an attempt to fragment the penal system.” 

_Dude and his big ass fancy words_. “Sarcasm Cas. It’s sarcasm.”

“Yes Dean. Know I do.” He sounds far too smug for his liking.

“You little shit.”

He stills sounds smug as he continues. “I’ll pick up Mary and Jack on the way home. Do you want us to swing by and get you?”

He spares a glance at the clock. “Nah it’s okay. I’ll get one of the guys to give me a lift home.”

“I will see you at home later then.”

“Alrighty babe. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He’s under the rusted hood again before he realises what he’s said.

xXx

Thanking Ash for the lift home, he realises that he’s beaten Cas and the kids home. Needing to fill time, he feels brave enough to explore what he’s been avoiding all week.

Stepping into the master bedroom, he doesn’t know what he expected, but he wasn’t expecting to be looking at things that were familiar. _Why wouldn’t it be?_ his brain told him off. The bedframe is the same one he’s always had, though when he takes a seat on it, it’s clear he has a new mattress.

_Oh yes, hello memory foam._

Resisting the urge to lay down, previous experience telling him he will fall asleep, he turns to look at the bedside table. It’s clear that Cas sleeps on the right hand side, the tower of books threating to topple over a digital alarm clock.

Rounding the bed to his side, there’s a lamp, a mechanic magazine and a small photo frame holding two photos. One is a picture of the four of them which must have been taken recently as Jack is grinning at the camera. The other photo is the last photo he has of his mother before she died, Sammy just a little baby in her arms as he leans over the chair to pear closer at his little brother. His heart clenches as he trails a finger down the frame.

Swallowing, he opens the small drawer underneath. It’s an assorted jumble of, well, stuff quite frankly. His fingers close around a bottle and he pulls it out. Reading the label he flushes scarlet and drops it like it burns.

_Lube._

Nope not thinking about that. Nope.

Nope.

Nopety Nope.

Looking through the wardrobe will be a safer enterprise right? He shoves the drawer shut and leaps off the bed to head to the wardrobe. _Geez, how much flannel does he own._

He moves on to the matching chest of drawers next. _Look at him, matching furniture and everything. Future Dean has got a hang of this adulting business._ Rifling through the drawers, he blushes when his fingers brush satin and he slams the drawer shut with a blush.

That can only mean one thing.

“There’s no need to be ashamed you know.”

He swears he jumps a solid three feet into the air. “Damnit we need to get you a bell you ninja.”

Cas just rolls his eyes and raises an eyebrow at the very most shut drawer.

Dean gapes. _Seriously? He knows?_ He scans his face for judgement but finds none. _Is he okay with it?_ If anything Cas looks amused and… aroused? He deflects with humour. “Oh God. Don’t tell me I’m the chick in this relationship.”

“Well you do love your chick flicks.”

“No I-“ Cas raises that bloody eyebrow again. “… don’t?”

Cas grins as he opens the drawer and pulls forth a dark green shiny pair of satin panties. “These are a personal favourite of mine on you.”

Dean gulps.

He’s been so trying so very hard not to think about sex, especially sex with a guy, and especially not sex with the man he married. He squirms and it’s like Cas is a bloody mind reader.

“Yes Dean. We have sex.”

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them. “And are we good at it?”

“I like to think so.”

He forgets his embarrassment as he snorts. “You’re overwhelming me with the passion dude.” _Flirting. That he is familiar with._ “What, you trying to say I don’t make you feel good?” He takes a daring step closer as he says it.

Cas takes a step closer himself, their chests a hairsbreadth from each other, and time freezes. Dean bites his lower lip as his eyes drops to Cas’ mouth. His breath hitches when Cas leans down his ear. “That’s an interesting assumption.”

Dean’s brain cells scramble. “What?”

The breath is hot on his neck. “Why do you assume you’re the one on top?”

Dean blinks. “Wait. I’m…?”

Cas hums as he steps back and slips from the room once again tugging at his shirt collar.

_Well fuck. Apparently he’s a bottom._

xXx

Sam comes over for dinner that night, Eileen stuck late at work.

He looks like a lost puppy as he asks a billion questions about how he’s doing, how work is going, if he’s remember anything more. “Dude I’m fine. Back off.”

Sam gives him puppy dog eyes and Dean sighs. “Fine I will be. Back off you must,” he growls out instead.

Sam rolls his eyes then as Cas tilts his head. “I don’t understand that reference.”

Dean gapes at him. “Where’s your Yoda knowledge?”

“Mmm,” replies Cas. “We’re still working on that.”

“Dude how long have we known each other?”

“Far too long,” comes the sombre response.

Dean throws a chip at him.

Sam just rolls his eyes. “Seriously Cas, why on earth do you keep him around?” 

“He’s good in bed,” replies Cas dryly.

Dean chokes as Sam groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re made for each other.”

“Does Daddy sleep good Papa?” asks Mary, but of course now joining the conversation.

Cas grins as he scoops the five year old up on to his lap. “Daddy sleeps very well.” Mary giggles as he growls into her neck.

Dean just can’t stop blushing and is determined to get the conversation off him. “So you’ll be delighted to hear that Gabe is coming to the party on Saturday.”

Sam groans as he drops his head on to his chest. “Cas, I’m delighted to have you in the family but your brother Is just too much.”

“Aww, is Samalicious worried?” Dean asks with a shit eating grin.

“And does Dean-o now know how he met Cas?” Sam shoots back.

Dean’s mouth snaps shut as he blushes furiously once again and turns back to the sauce he’s stirring.

A change of conversation to much safer topics pronto it is. 

Chilling on the couch after dinner, the two nerds in his life talking about bee keeping of all things, Dean amuses himself playing peekaboo with the drooling baby who is determined not to sleep and insisted on joining the party.

“Daddy, I made this for you.”

Dean looks up to find Mary standing proudly holding a plastic necklace adorned with a variety of bright coloured beads and flowers.

The instinct is already roaring up inside him to reject it. _What kind of a man wears girly shit like that._ It’s like John Winchester has a direct line into his head.

Mary’s expression starts to falter and that’s the dealbreaker. No one is ever causing his daughter pain.

“Thanks sweetheart.”

He suppresses the wince as he drapes it over his head and holds it out of the way of grabby baby hands already reaching for it. “How do I look?” 

Mary beams. “You look beautiful Daddy.”

“Um thanks.” He shifts awkwardly in his seat but is thankfully spared any response as Mary has already turned away.

“This one is for you Papa.”

Cas solemnly extends his arm and lets Mary slip the elastic bracelet on to his wrist. “Thank you Mary.”

And then Sam – little shit that he is – of course has to make a comment. “Aww look at you all matchy matchy. So cute.”

“Mary, I think Uncle Sammy would like one too.”

Mary’s eyes widen. “I could make him a crown for his long princess hair!”

Dean smirks at the look of horror on Sam’s face. _Serves him right._

After Cas gathers up the kids for their bath, Dean watches them leave the room, mindlessly twisting his wedding band. He turns back to find his brother watching him. “So how are things really Dean?”

Dean rolls his eyes at the therapy manner. “It’s fine Sammy. Annoying as shit that I can’t remember stuff, but I’m getting on with it.”

“And how are you and Cas getting on?”

Dean smirks as Sam rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean.”

Dean shrugs and averts his eyes. “We’re doing okay. Having two kids means we don’t really have time for much else.”

This time it’s Sam who smirks and Dean blushes scarlet at unbidden thoughts and fiddles with his necklace.

“Shut up Sammy.”

Even after Mary doles out her goodnight kisses and goes to sleep, Jack seems to think the party is still raging, not even Cas’ soothing voice reading their bedtime book settling him. (And having heard that voice last night for storytime, yeah it’s no wonder the kids want Cas reading, not him. Who wouldn’t want to listen to that.) Dean pushes Cas into the couch after the third cry and heads to the nursery to soothe the cranky baby.

It takes them a solid 45 minutes of tag teaming before he finally settles.

Sam sees himself out not long after as they lock up the house. They part ways at the bottom of the stairs and it just feels wrong to be going in opposite directions, though Dean pushes that feeling down firmly.

He’s been doing a bloody lot of that this week. 

“Good night Dean.”

“Night Cas.”


	8. Chapter Eight

It’s not a good night.

Dean lost count of how many times Jack woke up. It’s not always clear what he wants. To be held. A bottle. Something to chew on. Something warm. Something cold. He’s a miserable little boy.

At wake up call number five billion and one, he eases out of the study to find Cas walking the length of the hallway with a sobbing Jack in his arms.

On any other day he would have admired his husband’s shirtless form, but for now he has other concerns.

Neither gets much sleep.

The mood doesn’t improve in the morning.

And of course today is the day that Cas has his early class.

His head hurts. He’s cranky. And he wants nothing more than to go back to sleep.

But no, that’s not an option when even your usually happy daughter is clinging to you like a barnacle, your grizzling son is chewing on your finger like you’re the flavour on the month and your husband is desperately dashing around the house trying to get ready.

The doorbell rings and he shuffles to answer it, Mary refusing to let go as she buries her face into his thigh. He opens the door to a short dark haired woman who looks him over with a smirk. “How you doing there Charming.”

He has no opportunity to reply – or even gather up some brain cells (amnesiac or not) – when her voice carries into the house next. “You ready Clarence?”

_Clarence?_ , he mouths in confusion.

A thoroughly dishevelled Castiel runs his hand through his hair as he grabs his messenger bag and quickly drops a kiss to Jack and Mary’s heads as he dashes out the door.

Dean feels strangely disappointed that he didn’t get one too.

“I’ll see you later.”

Getting her to eat breakfast and dressed is a battle, but Mary is dropped off at school happily enough. (He’ll realise much later that stressed him drove the route without even needing a GPS. Go him!) Jack is an entirely different story though, not at all happy to be dropped off, tears running down his face. Dean doesn’t want to leave him, but the doctor said keep your normal routine, plus Missouri was more than capable right?

She takes the crying Jack who settles down to a whimper in her warm arms and Dean is torn.

Missouri just looks at him with a knowing smile. “I’ll see you soon boy.”

Heading to the garage, he’s tired, cranky, feeling guilty and his head hurts.

After making a series of stupid mistakes, Bobby kicks him out. “Before you hurt yourself you idjit.”

_Damnit he could really do with a drink._

But no he can’t have a drink.

Because he’s driving.

And he has a baby.

And he has a daughter he has to pick up.

Sonovabich.

Picking up Jack – heart clenching at the tears running down his face as he takes him into his arms – he heads home.

_Maybe they can both have a nap yeah?_

After showing a lack of interest in his bottle – much preferring the frozen teething ring – Jack obliges for all of 10 seconds in the cot. Giving up, Dean holds the baby on his chest, offering him the preferred finger to gnaw on, and heads to his bedroom to lay down. Jack is showing no interest in sleeping, but at least if he’s occupied he can rest his eyes for just a little bit yeah? _Hello memory foam._

His head still hurts and he’s groggy when he wakes up.

And then notices the time.

2:35pm.

“Shit.”

He drives as fast as he feels he can and arrives at the school five minutes late. Pulling into the car park, it’s then he remembers that Mary has her afterschool programme. Resting his forehead on the steering wheel he groans.

What a shitty day this is.

With over an hour to waste he turns around to look at the backseat. Jack is sound asleep. Of course.

_Well, I’ll just wait here then._

Twenty minutes later and he’s in danger of falling asleep again himself.

Must. Get. Fresh. Air.

Jack is still sleeping so he can’t exactly leave him there. He opens the car door and ponders the situation. Deciding to use the baby backpack carry thing that Cas had, he slips it on.

And off.

And on.

And off again.

_How the fuck is he supposed to use this?_

After a ten minute battle, Dean slides Jack gingerly into position and straps him in. _How did Cas make this look so easy?_ The four month old burrows into him and Dean freezes. _Please don’t wake up._

Locking up the car, he meanders toward the oval. It doesn’t take him long to spot Mary and he takes a careful seat and stretches his legs out on the bench. 

The session wraps up soon after and Mary races to grab her bag and then starts running toward him. Well running until she trips over that is.

He’s on his feet in an instant as she starts crying. Two large strides and he’s kneeling down beside her. “You okay sweetheart?”

Mary is holding her knee crying loudly. Her leggings aren’t torn and he can’t see any blood. It must mostly be shock. “It’s okay.” He tries to sooth her as he encourages her to stand up. His daughter is having none of it.

“Kiss better,” demands Mary tearfully.

Dean tries to lean down as well as he can, the carrier holding Jack not conducive to that action. He manages it though, lifting her leg a little higher to kiss it better. 

Mary deems it acceptable and stands up to throw her arms around him for a hug. Tilting his body as well as he can so Jack isn’t squished, he tugs her close.

“Where’s Papa?” sniffles Mary.

_He totally hasn’t forgot that they were picking up Cas too._

“He’ll, uh, come and meet us soon.”

“It hurts to walk,” cries Mary.

Well this is the day that just keeps on giving.

Insufficient room on his hip, inspiration strikes Dean. “How about we pop you up on my shoulders yeah?”

He gets her to stand on the bench and climb on to him. He winces at the tugs on his hair and has to stop a stray shoe from hitting Jack but they manage it at last. Mary giggles from her new lofty position, all pain forgotten.

For all of two seconds anyway.

“I’m hungry.”

And he’s got fuck all with him. “Let’s ah find a vending machine shall we?”

Mary’s eyes boggle. “We never get to eat sweets before dinner.”

“Ssh, it’ll be our secret.”

Various crumbs adorn both his and Jack’s hair from their clandestine activities as they wander back to the school gates. _He’d forgotten how freaking huge the University was._

Yawning, he crumples up the empty packet and shoots for the rubbish bin.

And misses.

Dean looks down at it in misery. Why. Oh Why. Mary giggles she grips his poor head tightly as he tries to lean down without sending them all toppling.

He gestures at a guy walking by with headphones on. “Dude, help a guy out?”

He’s ignored.

“Seriously?”

“Dean?”

“Cas!” He flies around in position.

“What are you doing?”

“Ah, trying to be a good citizen and tidying up the littering problem?”

Cas raises an eyebrow but the Gods that be are finally on his side as he simply rearranges the large pile of papers in his arms to lean down and pick up the rubbish and place it in the bin.

It’s then Dean notices the bags under his tired eyes and the more erratic than usual hair.

Looks like his day hadn’t been any better.

“You okay there Cas?”

Cas shakes his head. “Let’s just get home.”

Jack wakes up the second they get home and demands to be held by Cas and Dean in turn, refusing to be put down. Mary also wants undivided attention and demands it from the baby-free parent. Dinner needs to be made somehow and they give into defeat and order takeaway.

Dean’s head hasn’t stopped pounding since he walked in the door.

“I need to sleep,” he groans as he pushes his plate away. 

“Oh _you_ need to sleep do you,” snaps Cas. “Well I’ll just put the kids to bed then shall I.” 

Dean protests but Cas marches away. Perhaps sensing that his parents are at the end of their rope, bath time is a swift wash, Jack lays down to sleep with the barest of protests and Mary consents to a kiss, hug and shorter than usual story.

Cas’ mood doesn’t improve as he marches back out of Mary’s bedroom and dumps a pile of papers on the table. His satchel catches the edge, the thunk shooting through Dean’s brain as he hangs up the tea towel.

“Hey head injury over here. Take it easy.”

It’s the wrong thing to say.

Cas explodes. “Easy?! You think this is easy for me? You think getting that call and going to the hospital and then having to come home that night was _easy_?! You think it’s easy worrying that our daughter was going to have a birthday without her Daddy? Bake birthday cookies without her Daddy? Or if her Daddy was even going to remember her? And what I was going to have to say to her?”

There’s an unspoken: _and what if he never gets his memory back._

He throws his arms up in the air. “You think it’s easy getting up at a godawful hour of the morning to make sure things get done? There’s a party to plan for. So much cooking and baking to be done. A whole shitload of marking that I have to do by 5 tomorrow. Jack’s teething. I can’t remember the last time I had more than four hours in one stretch. The laundry hasn’t been done. My bed is….”

His voice trails off and Dean can see he’s close to tears. “I’ve tried to be understanding Dean, but…” 

Dean’s eyes widen as Cas takes a deep breath.

“I really, really miss my husband.” His jaw clenches. “So don’t tell me about easy.”

A stunned Dean is frozen in place as Cas storms off. Swallowing, he realises he’s been selfish. He’s been so caught up in his own problems that he hasn’t considered how much of the load Cas has been carrying and how much it has clearly been weighing down on him.

Making sure the front door is locked, he tidies up the last of the mess from their makeshift dinner, turns off the lights and bites his bottom lip on what to do next. Should he leave him alone or will he want to talk about it?

Mind made up, he patters silently to Cas’ – no, their – bedroom.

Cas is curled up on his side, back to him, body tight with tension. Dean swallows as he steps in to the room.

“I’m sorry Cas.” The words seem to echo in the quiet room.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he reaches out to place a hand on his back. He feels the muscles tighten below his palm and then release. Taking this as permission, he slowly lays down beside him. Shuffling closer, he gingerly lies against flush with his husband. His arms are already reaching out wrap around his husband’s body to hold him tight and he doesn’t fight it.

“I’m sorry.”

Cas slips an arm between his. It’s so natural to press his lips to the exposed neck then and so that’s what Dean does. They lay there in silence, content simply in the presence of the other. It’s not long before sleep threatens to wash over them and Dean is already halfway under when he hears the words.

“Please come back to me.”


	9. Chapter Nine

Jack is crying.

Suddenly awake, Dean realises he’s rolled over onto his back and Cas is sleeping on his chest. Was he… cuddling? Apparently his body has decided that the correct thing to be doing in response to that is to wrap an arm around his body. When said body starts to move, he feels a hot breath at his neck as Cas groans.

He tightens his grip on his husband and presses a kiss to his head before slipping from his arms.

“I’ll get him.”

He’s half way out of the room before he realises what he’d done. He’d just kissed Cas. Again. Well on the hair so it hadn’t really counted but still. Halfway to hyperventilating he turns back toward the bed to see what Cas has to say about this.

Nothing is what Cas has to say. He’s now holding Dean’s pillow in a not dissimilar manner to how he’d been holding him a moment ago, dead to the world once again.

Jack cries again.

He’ll have to think about it later, because for now he has a cranky baby he needs to tend to. Turning on the soft lamp he crosses to the cot and sees that Jack’s poor little face is bright red, the front of his onesie soaked through with drool. His crying intensifies as he sees his father.

“Aw kiddo,” Dean sympathises as eases him up into his arms. “You’re not very comfortable hey.” 

Jack simply whimpers as he burrows into his father’s chest. “How about we get you into some nice clean clothes and then see if that helps you feel better hmm.”

Jack decides that this isn’t a very nice idea at all, screaming bloody murder when he’s laid horizontal.

“Ssh kiddo,” soothed Dean picking him up again and sparing a glance to the door. “We’re trying not to wake up Papa.”

Bouncing his unhappy son in his arms as he paces the room, Jack begins to settle. It’s not long before he starts to move his mouth in a sucking motion looking up at Dean woebegone, as if he knows that his father is physically incapable of providing what he needs right now.

Dean tries his hardest not to laugh. Jack had refused his bottle before bed, but it was clear now that he’s hungry.

“Let’s get you a bottle shall we.” Jack seems to realise he is about to get what he wants and settles as they go down the stairs.

Jack takes the bottle without a fuss and is sleepy enough that he can carefully dress him in a new onesie before slipping him back into bed. He leans down to press a kiss to his brow. “Sweet dreams kiddo.”

Stumbling back into his bedroom with a yawn, he finds Cas curled up in a ball on his side of the bed. Shrugging he goes around to Cas’ side of the bed and slips in, tugging Cas’ pillow closer, inhaling his scent as he slips into slumber.

And then wakes up once again to the sound of Jack crying.

Though to be fair daylight is now streaking into the room. Cas grunts at the noise and rolls over. Tired eyes meet tired eyes and so the day must begin.

Dean walks into the kitchen with Jack in his arms to find Cas seated at the dining table gripping a coffee and scowling down at a piece of paper. He looked like he was about to be overwhelmed. Dean sneaks a look at the words on top and frowned.

_Things to Do for Mary’s Party_

“Hey none of that,” he says firmly as he tugs the paper out from under Cas. “I know that the noggin may not be quite right but I do believe that my cooking ability has not deserted me after all these years.” He smirks at the face looking up at him. “And let’s be honest here sweetheart. I’m the chef in this family.”

Cas harrumphs and then lifts his coffee for a sip.

Dean is determined to do as much as he can to help today. Cas deserves that much at least. Placing the paper on the kitchen bench, something strikes him.

“What would you want do if you could?” Dean asks as he gathers up Jack’s bottle. “You know, something that’s just for you.”

Cas ponders this seriously. “I wouldn’t mind going for a run.”

Dean’s face scrunches up. _But hey, to each their own._

Cas props his chin on his palm and looks at him thoughtfully. “You know, you run with me sometimes.” 

Dean blanches. His jaw drops as he just goggles at his husband.

And then he sees the smirk.

“You little shit.”

“Daddyyy!” But of course his daughter enters the room then.

“Maryyy!” he replies equally dramatically.

Bottle warmed up, Dean marches across the room and dumps Jack into his laughing husband’s arms in retaliation and then stomps into the kitchen to make breakfast.

Family seated around the table, it’s decided. They’ll all go in the car together: Cas will drop Mary off at her classroom and then go for a run and Dean and Jack will head to the shops and start to cook.

Tasks divided, Cas gets Mary ready as Dean lays Jack on a blanket on the living room floor and sits next to him with the pen and paper.

Mary had advised on her _absolute_ _favourite_ things, and it hadn’t been hard to build a menu around it. All pretty standard grilling fare and nothing he was overly concerned about. Even if there are too many vegetables and salads.

Jack happily gums on a teething ring as he gazes up at Dean as his father provides a running commentary of what they need to buy.

“What do you say Jack? Daddy’s going to make your sister a kickass dinosaur cake yeah?”

The baby offers him a gummy and decidedly drooly smile.

Dean grins. “Thanks for the ringing endorsement kiddo.”

There is no sign of Mary’s bad mood or bruised knee hurting as she bounds out the front door, Cas right behind her. This leaves Dean behind them holding Jack (and reusable shopping bags – how is this his life?) and can he just say, it’s a very good view indeed.

Raising his eyes, he flushes when he realises he’s been caught. Cas just raises that eyebrow of his. “If you’re ready?” he asks holding out the keys.

Dean snatches it from his hand and declines to answer as he walks by his husband. He swears he can hear the fucker laughing.

Pulling into the carpark, Dean opens the door to step out of the car. “Have a good day sweetheart.” He grins as he crouches down and Mary throws her arms around his neck. “Try not to beat up too many kids.”

Mary leans back and rolls her eyes. _Jeez, she really was a Winchester._

Standing up, he smirks at Cas and swats him on the ass. “Don’t give Miss Hannah an eyeful.”

“An eye full of what Papa?”

He cackles at the sight of Cas’ scowling face as he gets back into the car.

Juggling baby and shopping, he eventually has everything he needs in the house.

Replacing Jack’s bib – seriously how much drool can a kid supply? – and chucking on a load of washing – seriously how many clothes do kids need? – Dean prepares a bottle and sets himself up.

Cooking has commenced, Jack supervising from his bouncer on the kitchen bench, when Cas gets back from his run.

He’s sweaty, shirt sticking to his lean frame. Dean’s mouth goes dry, hand frozen in midair, at the sight. He coughs as he drops the spoon back into the bowl and tries to get some form of self control back.

It’s not helped when Cas brushes by him to grab a glass and fill it at the tap. His body tingles at the touch.

_Personal space dude,_ his mind supplies helpfully.

“Good run?” is what he says instead.

“Mmm.” 

Cas steps closer and Dean freezes as this brings them into closer contact, Cas’ chest now warm against his back. Sweaty too, he notices with a wrinkle of his nose. His discomfort is forgotten as an arm sneaks around his body and a finger dips into his bowl.

This he knows how to respond to.

Dean slaps his hand away and sticks an elbow into the gut so close behind him.

“Get the hell outta my kitchen.” 

Swearing and looking around for Mary and the swear jar he belatedly remembers she’s at school. Cas smirks as if he knows exactly what’s going on in his head.

Giving him another shove, Cas is grinning as he licks his finger and then dutifully leaves for a shower, tugging the shirt off over his back as he disappears out of sight.

Not that Dean was watching.

At all.

He guards his bowls protectively when Cas comes back in not long after to make a coffee and then scoops up Jack into his arms.

“C’mon son. Let’s leave mean Daddy and go have some fun with Papa.”

Dean just pokes his tongue out as a belly laugh sounds in the house.

He gets into the motions of cooking, feeling 100% comfortable and like himself for the first time in days. This he knew. This he was good at.

Noticing the time, he realises that the clothes will be done now. There’s something decidedly soothing about all these household tasks. _When did he become so domestic?_

Swapping the clothes over to the dryer and popping a second load in, he stills when he hears soft voices.

Going to explore, he grins as he gets closer and realises that it is Cas giving a running commentary about what he is marking.

“… due to the rise of Christianity and now Jack that is why…”

Peaking his head around the door, he swears his heart melts. Jack is propped up against Cas’ chest, the ever present teething ring held firmly between his small hands and thrust into his mouth. His eyes are looking upward and Dean could tell that he was more than happy to just be, soothed by his father’s voice.

_I mean let’s be honest, his husband has the voice of a sex God._

Dean backs away quickly and quickly hurries back to the kitchen firmly ending that trail of thought.

The cake is cooling waiting to be cut and he’s preparing his various toppings when he sees Cas next. It’s a decidedly cranky Cas who is complaining about the standard of his students’ work, but Dean barely hears the words as all he can see are those blasted glasses.

And when he tugs his hand through his hair and groans with frustration Dean swears that image has joined far too many from the past few days in his spank bank. He’s struck once again how attracted he is to his husband.

Diverting attention, he scoffs down a quick sandwich he makes for them as Jack naps. When Cas prepares to leave the kitchen to return to the study he stills. “Are you sure you’re okay doing all this?”

Dean’s retained equilibrium enough to respond. “Sweetheart,” he says oh so very reasonably. “I’m sure this isn’t the first time, and it’s certainly not going to be the last time either, get out of my kitchen.”

Cas puts up a tokenistic protest but allows himself to be banished.

Dean manages to finish the cake before Cas brings Mary home from school. Mary oohs and aahs over the bright green dinosaur adorned with various sweets for plates and toenails. A large 5 adorns the middle, along with the _Happy Birthday Mary_ he’d painstakingly iced on, which had taken for-freaking-ever.

“What dinosaur is it?”

_Damned if he knew._ Wait what had Gabe called her the other day…

“It’s a Marysaurus.”

Mary just beams at him and throws her arms around him. “I love you Daddy.”

Must. Not. Cry.

“I love you too Mary.”

xXx

It’s a pleasantly exhausted Dean that places the last wrapped dish into the packed fridge and closes the door. Checking the house is locked up, he plods to the bedroom and into the ensuite. Stepping into the shower he groans as the hot water pounds down on his tired muscles. Stepping out with a yawn, he wraps a towel around his waist and stumbles into the bedroom.

Reaching into the bottom drawer, he stifles yet another yawn as he drops the towel and tugs on a pair of pants.

Turning, he freezes when he spots Cas sitting on the bed, book open on his lap, heated eyes intent on him. Their eyes lock together.

“Um hi?” he eventually offers as his brain catches up.

The trance snaps as Cas looks away.

Picking up the wet towel, he fidgets in place and wonders what to do next. Heading for the doorway, he stops at the soft voice. “You can sleep here again if you want.”

“Um, I ahem, yeah…” 

_Who was he to turn that opportunity down._

Sighing in contentment as he slipped under the covers and Cas turned the light off, he decided he could get used to this.

He’s woken up far too soon.

The false dawn light barely shines through as he groans into his pillow. Burrowing in, he blinks as he realises his pillow is not the soft pillow he’d started on last night, but instead warm muscle. Naked warm muscle. He starts pulling away slowly but his efforts are blocked when an arm tightens around him, holding him close, fingers buried in his hair. Tilting his head, he sees that Cas is actually still asleep. He takes the opportunity to just look at the man: taking in the sight of the mussed hair, tanned skin and long eyelashes. Even the bags not quite smoothed away in sleep can hide the fact that Castiel Novak is one hell of an attractive man. His only regret is that he can’t see those gorgeous blue eyes he’d fallen in love with first.

His musings are interrupted by a little girl scrambling up onto the bed and bouncing, somehow managing to avoid jumping on their legs and other sensitive parts as she squeals excitedly.

“It’s my birthday party today!”

Dean isn’t the only one who groans then as Cas shifts beneath him and blearily looks around.

Jack seems to know that he is missing out on something as he starts to cry and Dean slips from the bed. Sliding the baby into his arms, his heart melts when Jack gives him a wide – albeit drooly – smile.

Freshly diapered, he rests Jack on his hip as he heads back to the master bedroom. Stopping in the doorway he grins at the sight of Mary straddling Cas’ chest and talking animatedly as her hands flap around, the poor man doing his best to be awake and engaging.

“Shall we join Papa and Mary hmm?”

Jack shoves his fist into his mouth.

Why yes indeed we shall.

They only manage fifteen minutes of family snuggle time before various bladders need emptying, bottles need feeding and caffeine needs drinking, but Dean has never felt so content.

_Yeah. He could get used to this._


	10. Chapter Ten

It’s organised chaos from the minute they get out of bed.

Breakfast is a rushed cereal, Mary riding a sugar high without the sugar bouncing off walls and even Jack is getting into the spirit of things as he merrily bangs together two teething rings.

He’s fallen asleep, rings still in hand, when Dean checks the half finished _To Do_ List.

“All right, you’re on blow up duty.”

Cas raises that freaking eyebrow. “You have complimented me on my blowing ability before.”

“Right um yes…” Cas’ laugh follows him as he blushes scarlet and dashes for the safety of outdoor set up.

Just under an hour later he comes back in through the back door. “Right, the table and chairs are out and the grill is ready and…” his voice falters as he takes in the man who turns to look at him. Blue eyes, erratic hair, that bloody trenchcoat and holding his daughter. He looks like Cas but something just ain’t right.

“You’re not my Cas are you?” Dean asks cautiously.

The man grins. “No, I’m his twin brother Jimmy.”

“Oh come on!” It’s a whining Gabe and a victorious Cas that turn the corner. “But how?! The dude has lost half a brain and yet s-”

“Hey!” he protests as Mary scampers down from her uncle and runs to her identical her father, clearly delighted at the game.

Gabe just waves him away as he flops onto the couch.

“Still an asshole,” mouths Dean to his husband.

Mary looks up at him with a squint, head tilted. He beams at her and boops her on the nose. “I didn’t say a word sweetheart.”

“Dean,” warns Cas though he can see the tiny smile that threatens to escape.

“Remind me again why we’ve invited him?”

“Because I brought pie,” comes the prompt response from the couch.

_Who was he to argue with that._ “Fair enough,” he acknowledges as he heads to the kitchen.

xXx

Mary’s birthday party is in full swing as Dean mans the grill and looks around at the various people that fill up the space in his backyard. Sure he may have lost 8 years of memories, but it’s nice to know that some things never change and family still don’t end with blood.

His attention is diverted by a loud shout.

“You said I couldn’t give her candy!” Gabe streaks by with a protesting Cas close behind him. “This is a close second for awesomeness.”

Mary follows her father and uncle shouting “Fireworks! Fireworks!”

Dean laughs at the spectacle. It’s been hilarious watching Gabe and Sam trying to outdo each other for _Uncle of the Year_ all day.

He does his best to school his features as a resigned Cas marches up to him shortly after. “Is it justifiable homicide to kill your brother?”

“Oh absolutely,” replies Dean as he tugs his grumpy husband closer and presses a kiss to his brow. “I’ll even help you hide the body babe.”

Cas huffs, staying in his arms a moment longer before stepping back. “I gave in and said he could light one of them.”

“Now that right there is Father of the Year material.”

Cas beams up at him.

Two hours later, darkness descended, they’re ready. Cas has both of his hands firmly planted on Mary’s shoulders, because God forbid she get anywhere near the hazard that her uncle was about to release, the little girl buzzing with excitement. Dean stands to Cas’ right, Jack settled on his hip.

“Ladies and Gentleman,” booms Gabe. “The grand event marking the very most awesomest fifth birthday of our Mary Rose Novak Winchester and I as the most bestest Unc…”

“Just get on with it Gabe,” cries Sam.

“You’re lucky there’s children here Samsquatch or I’d have a very different response for you.” 

Cas groans as Dean stifles a laugh.

“Are we ready?”

It’s Mary who shouts the loudest. “Yes!”

“In…

Five…

Four…

Three…

Two...

One.”

_Bang._

_Boom._

_Bang._

Pain shoots through his skull as Dean drops to his knees. His head roars as new memories clash with old.

Cars screech.

Windows shatter.

Arms tighten.

Freefall.

Baby cries.

His head hurts.

_Jack!_

Is Jack okay?

He needs to know his baby is okay.

“Dean?”

“Dean?!”

“Daddy?”

Frantic voices puncture the haze as he struggles to open his eyes. Coming back to reality, he’s in his backyard. He feels the familiar weight of his baby in his arms. And then those oh so familiar blue eyes swim into sight.

_Cas._

He doesn’t think or say – just acts. Throwing out an arm he pulls his husband and daughter down toward him and hugs them tight.

Breathless, head and heart pounding, he struggles to find words. _Sod that, he’s always been a man of action._ Leaning back slightly, he presses a frantic kiss to them all.

“Daddy’s back,” he whispers. “And Daddy isn’t going anywhere.”

“Why are you crying Papa?” asks a curious Mary as Dean brushes tears from his husband’s cheek.

“Because Papa is very happy,” replies Cas with a wet smile. 

It’s some time before Dean finally gets his husband back to himself properly as friends and family mob him. He tugs Cas close and wraps his arms around to rest low on his back as Cas slings his own around his neck. His expression is soft, if still a little teary, as Dean leans in to press a firm kiss to Cas’ lips. Wanting more, his husband tugs him closer and deepens the kiss.

They’re both wearing matching watery grins when they part.

“Heya Cas.”

“Hello Dean.”

And with that, he just knows that everything is going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We made it! Thanks to all that read, reviewed and kudos'ed my labour of love.
> 
> If the muse should so deign to be cooperative, I’ll be posting a few timestamps for this series, mostly jumping back in time to Cas’ perspective of the day Dean lost his memory, their first meeting, how they got the kids etc so do subscribe to the series if you’re interested.


End file.
